Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls
by bardvahalla
Summary: Harry Potter spends his sixth year at school:
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (Fanfiction)**__**

By Bardess 2004 (bardessmagma.ca)

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG-13)

Chapter One

Stormy Weather

Large drops of cold rain lashed the roof at 4 Privet Drive in intermittent, wind-blown waves. The feeble light of candles wavered behind the sheer drapes of two separate windows. Electrical power in Little Whinging had been on and off (mostly off) since the storm began the day before. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley Dursley sat in front of the fireplace downstairs, as candles provided a dim, jumpy light.

Upstairs, alone, Harry Potter lay on his bed, reading one of his textbooks; "A Humourous History of Muggle Magicians, by H. A. Snikker". It shuddered and giggled softly in his grasp. He needed to divert himself from another miserable evening in his uncle's company. Despite being in the Dursley's home, Harry found the candlelight reminiscent of Hogwart's warm, dancing tapers.

Just that evening, it seemed to him he had shared a brief, almost pleasant moment with his aunt as he fetched candles and deftly lit them for her. Storms made Aunt Petunia very nervous, especially since the night Hagrid had come to fetch him on his eleventh birthday. Petunia actually smiled at Harry when he lit the candles, but the moment was shattered when Uncle Vernon barked at him, "Don't set this house on fire, boy, because if you do I'll see to it you burn with it!" Dudley smiled, but was careful to turn away from Harry as he did so. Petunia suddenly busied herself getting a cold supper together. Harry retreated to his room.

Initially, Harry had tried very hard to get along with his relations this summer. Like it or not, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley were the only blood ties to his mother's family he would ever have. On several occasions he attempted to talk to his aunt alone in an effort to mend fences, but somehow Uncle Vernon managed to barge in or otherwise undermine any progress he made. Harry finally gave up trying.

Harry understood that Aunt Petunia resented him, but only recently did he come to appreciate that she resented him out of fear. She was terrified Harry was knowing he truly endangered them all.

Harry appreciated that Petunia should be afraid. What if last summer he had had to return to his aunt and explain that Azkaban's merciless guards had sucked out Dudley's soul? No wonder they feared him. Petunia knew what Dementors were. She probably quite knew a lot about his world but would never admit it.

Still, his aunt's attitude towards him suddenly warmed near the middle of summer break. He'd been walking back from Mrs Figg's house when he saw Gordon and Piers, two of Dudley's chums, sprinting from the park with fear on their faces. Harry heard Dudley scream and ran to the park. Dudley was on the ground, whimpering. Mark Evans, one of Dudley's favorite victims, was grimly watching his older brother, Stewart, repeatedly punch Dudley in the face with his meaty fists. With a grunt of effort, Harry pulled Stewart off and yelled, "That's enough. Get off him!"

Stewart rolled away and jumped up, fists at the ready. "I'll say when this little punk has had enough!" Stewart swung at Harry, who dodged the massive fist, and placed himself between Mark's massive older brother and Dudley.

Mark grabbed his Stewart's arm in alarm. "Don't Stew! That's the Potter kid! The mental one from that St. Brutus' place!"

Dudley lay blubbering on the ground, his nose bleeding. Stewart Evans paused and his eyes narrowed. "I know you, Potter. You've taken more than your fair of thrashings from this little toe rag. Why are you standing up for him, then?"

Harry stared back coolly. "You've made your point, Stewart. He won't touch Mark again, will ya, Duddikins?"

"I p-promise," Dudley blubbered as he tried to stop the blood streaming from his nose.

Stewart glared at Dudley as if he was something that crawled out of the mud. "You even so much at look at my little brother wrong again and I'll kick you into the next world. Got it, Dursley?"

Blood dripped over his leather jacket as Dudley nodded. Stewart sneered at Harry for a minute, then motioned to Mark and left without another word.

"Why'd you do that then?" Dudley demanded. He looked around for his friends but there was no one there but Harry.

Harry didn't have an answer. He only shrugged, then said, "We better get you cleaned up. C'mon. Let's go home."

Home.

For one more summer after this, if he survived, the Dursley's house was to remain his home. Dumbledore, his headmaster at Hogwart's, talked of an ancient magic, and how his mother's sacrifice had saved him. He told Harry his aunt Petunia's willingness to take him had somehow kept him alive. The knowledge that he might not survive another encounter with Voldemort had given Harry a slightly different perspective on living with the Dursley's. As long as he lived with them, they were in danger. They might be used against him just as Sirius had been, even though Voldemort probably sensed Harry loathed them. He smiled. His intense dislike of the Dursleys had probably worked towards increasing their odds of survival.

Harry distracted his aunt and uncle until Dudley could sneak upstairs unseen. When Dudley finally came down to dinner, his clothes were clean, but he still sported blackened, swollen eyes and a still bleeding nose, Petunia screamed and Vernon glared at Harry.

"IT WAS YOU, WASN'T IT???" His uncle's beefy fingers reached out and grabbed Harry by the throat.

"Get off him!" Dudley yelled fiercely and wrenched his father's hands off Harry. "Leave him alone!"

Petunia, Vernon and Harry all stared in disbelief at Dudley. "Just leave him alone," Dudley said again firmly then added. "I got in a fight, alright? It was my own fault."

Harry's jaw dropped. Petunia began to cry. Vernon wanted to know names and Dudley refused to give any.

"He's jinxed the boy." Vernon hissed at Petunia. "Dudder's acting most unnatural." His purple face turned balefully towards Harry again. Harry backed away, but Dudley stood up and glared at his father.

"Harry pulled the other guy off me and drove him away! SO JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Vernon dropped his hands reluctantly. He was still convinced that Harry was responsible somehow. Through her tears, Petunia stared at Harry with an expression he'd never seen on her face before.

It was gratitude.

Later, when they were alone, Dudley looked at Harry and said, "We're even, right?"

Harry nodded back. He was still in shock that Dudley, of all people, would have stood up to his father for him. "Yeah, alright."

In the weeks that followed, Harry still didn't feel like he would ever be part of the family, but at least the Dursley's were being civil to him, and that was a huge improvement.

After that, the summer had been unusually quiet for Harry. Over two dozen captured Death Eaters were imprisoned in Azkaban. The Ministry of Magic was finally taking Dumbledore's warnings seriously and hunting down Voldemort. The Order of the Phoenix was actively seeking out the remaining Death Eaters, but so far unsuccessfully. Harry was told to not ask questions. He knew why. Voldemort was capable of possessing him, and that meant he was a security risk. Harry was feeling more isolated than ever in some ways, but at least now he understood why.

Harry had been able to take refuge with Mrs Figg when he felt particularly lonely. Figg's baking had improved and so had her conversation. Despite being a squib she was well informed on what went on in the magical world, and always let Harry watch the Muggle news if he wanted to keep up on events that might be tied to Voldemort.

"Drop by anytime, Harry." Mrs Figg beamed at him. "You're better company than cats any day of the week -and you don't shed."

When the power first went out, just after the storm started, Harry ran through the torrential rain and down the street to make certain Mrs Figg was all right. Dripping water all over her rugs, he explained he'd come to see if she needed anything from the shops (since her leg bothered her whenever it rained). Harry liked watching out for Mrs Figg these days. It kept him from dwelling on him own problems too much.

Mrs Figg didn't want for anything, but his concern made her misty-eyed. She wrapped a large sack of spicy cookies and thick caramel squares for Harry to take back to the Durley's. "You're growing so fast and that lot never did feed you well enough," she said with a tight mouth. "At least you'll be back at Hogwarts in a few days and those elves will keep you fed proper." Harry gave her an appreciative smile. With Mrs Figg feeding him several times a week, he wasn't going hungry at all this summer.

Harry had indeed grown. This summer it was obvious he was much taller than Dudley, though Dudley was still much wider than Harry. Dudley resented that Harry made a point of doing one hundred push ups every morning and jogging 5 kilometers every afternoon. Once thin arms now showed hard muscles. He told his aunt it was to keep fit for Quidditch. Harry, however, was keeping fit for more than mere sport. The last battle with the Death Eaters had relied on sheer brawn as well as magical ability and brainpower. If Voldemort somehow managed to take his wand, Harry thought grimly, he would still have his fists.

Only Uncle Vernon remained a thorn in Harry's side until the end of summer. While Vernon never actually DID anything to harm Harry, he certainly felt safe in threatening to. This actually counted as civil behavior from his uncle. Harry hoped his uncle would be out when the Granger's came to fetch him tomorrow. The meetings with the Weasley's had been disasters. Hermione's parents were hosting Harry for a few days before term started. Ron was pleased to see Harry out of Privet Drive but also annoyed he wasn't included in the invite. He had said as much to Harry when they went to Diagon Alley to buy their school supplies earlier that week.

"I mean, it's not as if they don't have the room. They're both dentists. They're LOADED," Ron sulked. They sat nursing butterbeers in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry suspected something was up with Hermione's invitation, but did not say as much to Ron. Harry didn't like feeling left out of things, why would Ron?

"I'm sure it's only because she knows I can't go to the Burrows this year."

Ron had hoped Harry could stay with him again this year, but too much was going on with Ron's parents and the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius had left the Black house to Harry, but it was in trust with Ron's parents until Harry was of age. It was still being used by the Order for meetings. Harry felt he didn't deserve anything considering that Sirius died because of his lack of judgment. The house was valuable, but it was not exactly cozy. Still, he needed to be able to go somewhere after he left the Dursley's. If he survived.

Harry quickly changed the subject. "How'd it go with Percy and the 'reconciliation'?"

"It didn't." Ron scowled. "It started well enough. We all thought that Percy was finally going to get down off his high horse and admit Dad had been right all along. Except, he didn't. Then Fred and George started in on him for that, and then Percy went on and on about how the twins had shamed the family by being owners of a joke shop. That went over like a dung bomb, let me tell you! Then Ginny piped up about how at least Fred and George were sharing their good fortune with the rest of the family and how Percy only ever thought of himself, which is true. Then Percy stomped off in a huff swearing he was done with the lot of us and then-" Ron stopped himself abruptly and rubbed at his eyes.  "Well, it got worse. He tore his name off the clock and chucked it in the garden somewhere. Poor mum! She's still looking for it. Her eyes are red from crying all the time." Ron stared into his empty flagon of butterbeer. "Why can't Percy just admit he was WRONG and pull his fat head out of his – ar… no thanks."

A scruffy waitress had come by with a jug to refill their flagons. Harry's was less than half full but he shook his head.

"Dad tries to talk to him at work but Percy just stays 'cool and professional'," Ron continued when the waitress left. "I'll never forgive him for that wanky letter he sent last year advising me to dump you. Frankly, I don't miss the overblown, stupid git. It's just I hate seeing mum and dad so upset."

Harry deeply regretted that he'd brought the subject of Percy up. He clapped Ron on the shoulder. "Oh, he'll come around. You'll see, Ron. C'mon. Let's go get our books, alright?"

Ron shoved the flagon away listlessly. "Yeah. Right."

A few days later, Hermione was deeply immersed in the new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, '_Shattering Illusions. The Art of Deception and Treachery of Your Own Senses_" by Hecatean Malfoy. Harry wondered at the name. Hermione knew everything about her, of course.

"She's Draco's aunt, Lucius' sister, but a bit of a mystery. No one has seen her for years. She went into hiding not long before Voldemort tried to kill you. She's written several books on the subject of illusion and glamour. She's an authority on potions and spells designed to deceive every sense, not just the eyes."

Harry frowned. "She sounds like a Malfoy except she's not secretive about her knowledge. I suppose Draco will be rubbing our noses in this famous family connection as well."

"Mmm. Not likely. Hecatean's the black sheep of the Malfoy family, apparently," Hermione said, "Hasn't spoken to them for years. She's still a nasty piece of work from what I hear.

"How did you find that out?" Harry asked.

"Madame Pomfrey was in Diagon Alley the same day I was and told me everything about her," Hermione explained. "Pomfrey absolutely LOATHES Hecatean Malfoy. In her last year at Hogwarts, Hecatean stole a very rare plant from Madame Sprout that she was never able to replace. The Innubibus Vine. It has great healing properties and it renowned for spell reversals. Madame Sprout was making cuttings for a special potion for the Longbottoms at St. Mungo's when Draco's aunt stole the vines."

Harry scowled. "Now she really sounds like a Malfoy."

Hermione nodded. "However, she does make the subject of illusion interesting. If I'd know half of these spells I could have avoided using that dratted Polyjuice potion altogether and simply done this!" Hermione raised her wand, touched her face and then touched Harry's, and cried "_Vide Viduturum_!"

Harry felt no different but when he looked at himself in the mirror he saw Hermione standing there in her clothes. The real Hermione came up beside him.

"That's brilliant!" Harry said in Hermione's voice. He reached up to stroke his long, but non-existent bushy hair. He felt something, but it was not proper hair. It was an illusion that fooled his eyes, ears and to a small extent, his hands.

"It worked!" squeaked Hermione. "I'm beside myself!"

"What's the counter spell?" Harry asked eagerly.

Her smile faded quickly. "Oh. Erm… hang on."

"You mean you don't know?" Harry cried, "But the spell will go away after a few minutes, right?"

Hermione looked sheepish. "Er… no. I have to remove it. A really powerful illusion like this can last a lifetime. It's why most wizards prefer the Polyjuice potion even though it's far more difficult to make. The thing with these spells of Hecatean Malfoy's is that only the originating witch or wizard can remove the spell. And they can be rather tricky. That's why they don't teach them to younger students."

Harry blanched and glared at her. "WHAT!? Your lifetime or mine?"

"Mine, actually." Hermione quickly scanned a couple of books by Hecatean Malfoy and finally left the room to find the one she needed. Harry sat sulking in a chair, waiting for her to find the counter spell, when the doorbell rang.

Hermione's voice called from upstairs. "Harry, get that, would you? My parents are out."

"I can't go to the door like this!" Harry said furiously.

"Oh, just act normally," she called back in agitation. "It's probably just a package or something."

Harry opened the door cautiously. It was Ron, flushed and out of breath. "Hermione!" he whispered urgently, then glanced around. "Is Harry busy? I need to talk to you alone."

Harry opened his mouth but only a feeble squeak emerged.

"Good." Ron grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him outside. "We came to London to talk to Percy. He lives not far from here, did you know that? No, why would you? Anyway, Mum and Dad are trying to patch things up with him again and asked me to take a walk. I don't have a lot of time. I need to tell to something, but I don't want Harry to know we spoke about it. I mean, I don't know how he'd take it. I mean…"

Harry became alarmed. Ron was wide-eyed and acting as if a lightning bolt might suddenly appear from the sky. Ron suddenly squeezed Harry's hand tightly and pulled Harry into a close embrace.

"Hermione, will you go steady with me?"

Mortified, Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

Ron abruptly released him from the hug, gazed earnestly at a furiously blushing Harry and kept babbling. "Don't answer now. Just think about it and let me know on the Hogwart's Express when we meet up there tomorrow." Ron hesitated, then lifted up Harry's hand, kissed it passionately, and then ran as if Dementor's were after him.

Harry re-entered the house. Distastefully he rubbed Ron's kiss off on his sweater.

"Found it!" Hermione exclaimed as she brandished a thick book. "I'll have that spell off in a tick. Who was at the door?"

Harry looked at her and said curtly. "It wasn't a package."

He told her everything after she removed the spell and immediately regretted it. She would not stop laughing.

"He actually kissed my hand?" she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes.

Harry flushed again. "No. He kissed MY hand, and Hermione, it's NOT funny."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry but it is," Hermione rubbed the tears of mirth from her eyes. "It's long overdue that he said _something_, but why did it had to be to you?"

Harry moaned. "We can't tell him about this. He'll crawl into a hole and die."

"I agree," Hermione said as she continued to wipe away her eyes. "since I imagine he didn't want you to think he was muscling in on your time with me."

Harry needed a moment to puzzle that out. "You mean Ron thinks that me and you are… er, interested in each other or something?"

Hermione resumed packing her books. "Or something. I know you've never felt that way about me, Harry, and I'm glad. I've always had a thing for Ron. It's why I was so upset that day he was dissing me. Remember? The day we fought the troll?"

"Oh right," Harry's head was swimming.  "So, you do have a thing for Ron?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes. I wouldn't have spent the whole day crying in the loo if I hadn't."

"Then, you'll tell him that on the train?"

"Of course. Now that he's finally admitted he fancies me."

Harry suddenly felt a huge wave of relief. He gazed at Hermione intently and said, "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything, Harry."

"Promise me," said Harry earnestly, "that one day soon, you will explain to me how women work. I just do not understand you lot."

Hermione smirked. "That's easy, Harry. A woman is like a golden snitch. Except you chase them until they catch you."

Harry mulled her comment over as he looked back in the mirror to make certain that it was now his face reflected in it. "That I can understand."


	2. HP and the Veil of Souls 2

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (fanfiction Book 6)**__**

By Bavahalla/Bardess 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling

Chapter Two

Trains of Thought

They made the Platform 9¾ in good time and had their choice of seats. Hermione created the illusion of a crowded compartment to ensure their privacy. Once the Hogwart's Express was underway, Harry got up and stretched at a prearranged signal from Hermione. He asked Ron if he wanted anything to eat. "Maybe some Chocolate Frogs. On second thought, forget it. I'm not all that hungry, really." Ron became twitchy and quiet.

"I'd love some Chocolate Frogs, Harry. Thanks," Hermione said absently as she scanned the Daily Prophet. The headline read: '_More plots of known Death Eaters discovered.' _Harry left, and as he walked down the corridor he heard the blinds being drawn behind him. He smiled and went to find the sweets trolley.

Seamus, Neville and Ginny were in a compartment nearby using extendable ears. He waved as he passed and decided to go there after he bought some chocolate. He heard Draco's voice behind a screen in the compartment next to them and realized Ginny and the others were listening in.

He felt a brief twinge of pity for Draco. It would not be an easy year for Malfoy, with his father in Azkaban and the media hounding his family. Harry stopped and shook himself. Calling a truce with Dudley was one thing, but Draco? Harry had no illusions about that ever happening. He'd threatened Harry with death more than once since his father was imprisoned.

Harry took his time. He wanted to give his friends privacy. He was happy for Ron and Hermione but a little envious too. IN the past year he now truly understood that having a girlfriend was very dangerous for him. Harry had noticed Cho Chang ignoring him earlier on the platform. But he felt nothing and was glad of it. Anyone he loved could become a weapon and a target for Voldemort. It made his scar hurt to think about it.

He grew angry at the pain and thought furiously, '_Listening in on my thoughts and feelings, Riddle? Good. Feel this!_' He squeezed his eyes shut and envisioned his fists pounding Voldemort furiously in his ugly, snakelike face. His scar immediately stopped hurting.

Harry gasped in relief. It was as if a persistent low-grade headache had been immediately cured. Voldemort HAD been infiltrating his mind, abet subtly. Harry had been defensively tried to block Voldemort out all summer, but never before had Harry gone on the offensive. He absently chewed on a Chocolate Frog and wondered if he could reach out and spy on Voldemort's mind without him knowing, just as Voldemort had been doing to him. Harry didn't think he was ready to try that yet. He made a mental note to ask Dumbledore about it.

Harry suddenly detected a sweet floral scent, not quite a perfume, but invasive. He turned and noticed a woman standing next to him. She was cloaked and her face was veiled. Full red lips were distinguishable through the gauzy material that shielded her features. Long, immaculate fingers reached out and lightly brushed a thick, black lock of hair from his forehead. The red lips smiled as she revealed his scar.

"Gave Riddle a smack down did you?" she said. "Good. If he tries to sneak into your mind again give him a few thumps for me."

"Who are you?" Harry asked in astonishment. How had she known he'd just repelled Voldemort?

"I'm Cat Tuebor," she replied as she snagged one of his Chocolate frogs. "but I expect you will be calling me Professor Cat. I'm teaching DADA this year."

"Dada?" Harry felt he should understand that but he felt strangely bedazzled by this woman. "Who's that?"

Professor Cat laughed. "Defense Against the Dark Arts. See you in class." She turned and left. Harry stood frozen, feeling curiously intrigued by this woman. He wondered how Snape would take being overlooked again this year. Snape would probably make Professors Cat's life a misery over it, just like he had all the others. A woman was teaching Dark Arts this year? Harry found himself looking forward to class with a female perspective on the subject.

He popped in on Ginny to hear what, if anything, she'd learned from Draco.

"Tedious, little git," Ginny scowled. "Bragging about how his Dad is a hero for the Pureblood cause and all that rubbish. Making comments like how his dad won't be in Azkaban for long. Oh! Ron'll love this! The Ministry froze all the Malfoy accounts at Gringotts. Draco is mostly complaining about not getting his allowance. The Malfoy's are basically broke!"

"Still," Neville said, "Azkaban. It must be horrible."

Seamus snorted. "It's not so bad. The Dementors aren't the guards there anymore. I imagine old man Malfoy's enjoying himself."

Harry lingered then finally returned to his compartment, taking care to knock first. Hermione signaled by coughing almost immediately and he entered. Hermione was now sitting beside Ron, but still reading the Daily Prophet. Her face held a smile of serenity.

Ron looked as if he'd been smacked upside the head with a brick and was insanely happy about it. "Hey, Harry," Ron said lightly. "Back already?"

Harry passed chocolate to Hermione who shook her head at them. He offered the rest to Ron.

"Is that all you got?" Ron complained. 'I'm famished."

"I met the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Harry said around a mouthful of frog a few minutes later.

"What's his name?" Ron asked.

"Her name is Cat Tuebor."

Hermione dropped the paper on Crookshanks, who hissed in irritation. "Is she pretty?"

"I couldn't really tell." Harry remembered the Tuebor's veil. There had been something Veela-ish about her, but he couldn't say what. "She was wearing a cloak and had her face covered. She smelled nice, though."

"What difference does it make if she's pretty?" Ron asked. Harry winced as a chuck of moist chocolate shot out of Ron's open mouth and onto his clean robes.

"None whatsoever. I was merely curious." Hermione returned to reading a warning article regarding Wild Bat soup and recognizing the symptoms of Rabies, but her face was growing hot.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. "Women," he mouthed as he retrieved the mushy chocolate from Harry's robes. Harry frowned at the stain, then waved it away with his wand. He liked Ron, but he drew the line at Ron's saliva.

Hagrid was skipping down the platform, causing luggage to tip over and fall onto the tracks. Harry stared at him in disbelief as the giant stopped and called out for the first years. His massive friend was wearing his best suit, which wasn't saying much, but he looked as if he was about to go on a date.

Hagrid cranked his thick neck, and seemed to be looking around for someone in particular. "First years to the boats! Hey, Harry! My heaven, yer'll be tall as me next year!"

The first years craned to look up as the infamous Harry Potter was lifted up by Hagrid in a bear hug.

"Good to see you, Hagrid," Harry grunted. "Please tell me you're teaching something this year."

"I wish I was," Hagrid released him, "But I've got enough to worry about in the forest these days. Still, I'm on the rolls as a substitute so yer never know."

Hagrid craned his massive bushy head around again, still looking for someone. He remained disappointed and finally escorted the first year students across the lake.

Harry joined Neville and Ginny in a coach. Neville leaned across to Harry. "Check it out, Harry. I bought a new wand. My very own. It suits me loads better than dad's old one did. Ollivander said as much. He doesn't put any faith in second hand wands. Figures that's why I didn't do so well with it. Oh, and Gran wants you to come for Christmas. Think about it, won't you, Harry?"

"I will." Harry said and smiled at Neville. Longbottom looked older, more confident. It seemed to Harry that Neville suddenly fit in his own skin. Harry tilted his head at him. "You look like you've been working out."

"Yeah. You too," Neville laughed. "If we ever catch ol' Voldy, I'll hold him down, you do the rest."

Harry felt his scar tingle slightly at the thought. "That's a promise."

"Voldy?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well, that's just gauche."

Snape was clearly agitated. He barely touched his meal. Professor Snape, like Hagrid, continually scanned the room for someone. Dumbledore announced Professor Cat Tuebor's name as the new DA teacher, but she had not put in a appearance at the feast. Pomfrey and Sprout looked very displeased about the announcement, but both Hagrid and Snape clapped long and hard. Snape actually seemed pleased to hear the appointment was confirmed. Harry pointed this out to Ron, who spent most of his meal feeding tidbits to Hermione, and she insisted on giggling far more than was humanly tolerable. Ginny finally poked Harry's arm.

"Did he ask her out?" she whispered. Harry nodded and she snorted, "About bloody time. Stupid git's been moping over her since he found out about you going to her place this summer."

"It was nothing," Harry began hotly.

"I know THAT." Ginny looked at him as if he was a decidedly dull knife. "Hermione invited you over to prompt Ron into doing _something_. Don't you understand anything about women?

Harry stared at Ginny and winced as Hermione giggled again. "Obviously not."

It was going to be a long year.

It became obvious that Snape was not himself. He entered the Potions class with a grim look of determination. He set one of the most difficult potions to brew as their first assignment. That was normal enough. What made jaws drop was Snape's sudden show of respect for Hermione.

"The distillation of the Fictilis Potion takes months of distillation and very precise handling." Snape emphasized. "I am assigning Miss Granger to oversee your contribution to this project, which, if successful will result in points for your houses and perhaps even a passing mark for those might otherwise not earn one." Snape stared coolly at Harry. "Miss Granger, you have, no doubt, already read Hecatean Malfoy's notes regarding this potion?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione glanced at Ron, who was still staring in shock at Snape.

"Excellent." He grimly handed her a key on a chain. "This opens my personal ingredients cabinet." He pointed out a largish wooden wardrobe in the corner. "I want that key returned at the end of term. By the way, Miss Granger, no ingredients are to be distributed for any potions other than the one assigned. Now. Turn to page 278. Remember the roots are to be CRUSHED! Not chopped. Very important."

As Harry crushed his roots, he snuck a look at Malfoy. Draco looked as if he was going to cry.

"He's gone batty, he has," Ron said while eating voraciously. Harry was glad he was stuffing is own face and not Hermione's for a change. Hermione's giggling had also subsided somewhat, to Harry's great relief.

"Snape and Hagrid are up to something," Ginny said. "Hagrid is bringing all sorts of things out of the forest to be put in this potion. Fungus, vials of blood and things I don't even want to thing about."

'What does this potion DO, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"It's a spell reversal potion usually, but Snape's modifying it." Hermione said, half lost in thought. "It's incredibly powerful, and usually used as a last resort. It can kill you if everything's not exactly right. Dosage is extremely important. The amount that works and the amount that kills are too close for my comfort. I'd never take it."

"We have Dark Arts next." Ron said, brightening up.

"Mmm." Hermione shot a look his way.

"C'mon then." Harry pushed his books into his bag. "Let's see what all the fuss is with Professor Cat Tuebor."

The veiled woman gave Harry a small nod as she entered. The student were standing in a semi-circle. She raised her hand and waited for silence.

"I am Professor Cat Tuebor but just call me 'Professor Cat' for short. Welcome to 6th year Defense against the Dark Arts. I will be focusing on the illusion and deception of your five senses. Lies come in many forms. Developing instinct and logic in these matters may well save you from Death Eaters, or worse, one day."

Malfoy sniggered. Professor Cat walked slowly toward him. The students parted like the sea before her. She stopped a few paces from Draco, who stared at the veiled woman with a sneer on his rat-like face.

Harry could just make out full red lips smirking under the veil. "Of course, there are some who might not take this threat seriously. There are some who think they might be exempt from this problem." She suddenly whipped out her wand, pointed it at Draco and cried "_Terran demergi!"_

Malfoy suddenly sank into the limestone floor up to his shoulders and was held fast by the stone. Professor Cat gracefully leaned over and stuffed a gauzy scarf in Draco's mouth. He protested but his muffled curses were ignored.

"Now," Professor Cat paused serenely, "the problem with THAT illusion is that You Know Who isn't completely sane. Who has more to fear from such a wizard? His enemies? Or those who choose to serve him?"

Harry stared at Draco, who was still furious, but now listening intently. Professor Cat continued.

"You Know Who has been know to maim, disfigure or kill a servant who displeases him, whether warranted or not. However, if he really wants to control and torment a servant whom he feels is not obedient, clever or devoted enough, he will select the one whom his servant loves about all else to torture or kill. A lover, a friend-" she turned and stared at Draco, "perhaps even a son."

She waved her wand. The gag flew out of Draco's mouth and flew back into her hand. Draco surged up out of the stone floor. He was shivering after being imprisoned in the cold rock.

"You best remember that, Mr. Malfoy." Professor cat said in a chilling voice. "You are in far more danger from Voldemort and his minions than most. Have I made myself VERY clear?"

Draco was now pale, shaking even harder and not just with cold. Professor Cat removed her cloak with a flourish and wrapped Draco in it. In a gentle voice she told him, "Warm up." She turned to the remainder of the class. "The rest of you open your texts to page 16."

Ron was beaming. "That was brilliant. We won't hear Malfoy bragging about his dad now. He'll be peeing himself anytime someone says 'Voldemort' now."

Harry winced as his scar twinged. His psychic fist was raised and the pain stopped.

"Don't say his name," Harry gasped.

Ron and Hermione stared at him. "Why Harry? You never had a problem saying his name before. Quite the contrary," Hermione commented.

"Lately, it makes him pay attention," Harry realized. "He's trying to listen through me. You must be careful what you say to me. Especially, if I'm tired. I can keep him out, but he responds to the mention of his name. He's gone now."

"No problem, Harry." Ron said, alarmed. "I never liked saying it anyway."

"That's horrible," Hermione exclaimed. "I never thought of that."

Snape loomed out of the shadows. "It also means Mr. Potter can feed false information to him. We must attempt to take advantage of that. That is, of course, if you are willing to learn _how_, Mr. Potter."

Harry stared at Snape. He was nearly as tall at the professor now. He still hated Snape, but was also astute enough to realize he needed the professor's help.

"I'm very motivated to learn anything that will give me an advantage, _Professor_ Snape," Harry said thickly.

Snape's nose twitched in annoyance. "How refreshing, Potter. Monday evenings then. My office." Professor Snape turned and left, his hair flying lightly over his shoulders.

Ron looked at Harry with pity. "You poor sod."

"I don't believe it," Hermione said in amazement staring after Snape.

"Why not? Snape loves torturing Harry with higher education." Ron said.

"Not that. Professor Snape. Didn't you notice?"

Harry peered after him. There was something different about Snape this year. He couldn't put his finger on it though.

Hermione finally noticed what was different. "He's been washing his hair. It's… it's… fluffy."

They all gawped after the Potions teacher in bewilderment. "What's gotten into him and Hagrid lately?" Harry wondered. "Hagrid's wearing a tie everyday and now Snape's discovered personal hygiene?"

Ron shrugged. "Everyone's gone mental, that's all. Come on. I'm starving."


	3. HP and the Veil of Souls 3

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (Fanfiction)**__**

By Bardvahalla/Bardess 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG-13)

Chapter Three

Elf Preservation

A few weeks later, Ron finally confessed to Harry that he and Hermione were 'a couple'. Harry feinted shock. "That's great, Ron. About time, actually. When did that happen?"

"On the train here," Ron said. "She's liked me forever, Harry. I just didn't get it. How thick is that?"

"I didn't see it either," Harry confessed. "Not really. I mean… I thought she had a thing for Victor Krum."

Ron grinned. "That's another thing. All those 5 scroll letters she writes to him constantly. Most of what she writes is book reviews. BOOK REVIEWS! They are both nutty when it comes to that. Here I imagined reams of goopy poems or something." Ron sighed. "I feel like I could fly without a broom, Harry. She even told me she liked me the first time she saw me because I had that dirt on my nose. Imagine! We just blurted out everything on the train ride. It was horrible and wonderful. Er… I'm making you sick with all this mushy stuff, aren't I?"

"No, you're just boring me to death. Just cut to the chase, all right? Was there any kissing involved?" Harry remembered how deeply Cho's kiss affected him. It hurt a bit to think about that. It seemed like a deception on Cho's part now.

Ron flushed. "Yeah! Right on the lips. It was gross in a nice kind of way. I suppose I can get used to it."

A sobbing sound came from under Harry's bed. A feminine sob. Ron looked at Harry in horror. Harry stared back. Wands out, they cautiously peered under the four-poster bed. Winky, the house elf, lay sprawled face down under Harry's bed. She wiped at her eyes with a filthy tissue.

"Winky? What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Come out of there!" Ron said sharply. "Why were you eavesdropping?"

Winky crawled out from under the bed and wept softly. "Do not w-want to wake the other young m-masters. Winky bad, but not spying, I swear. But must ask Master P-Potter for help. Please."

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, exchanging an alarmed look with Ron.

"Dobby being most horrible, sir. It hasn't happened for centuries. Dobby is not being a good elf about it. Dobby must forgive."

Ron had little patience for elf babbling. He'd been so happy only a minute before. "You're drunk on Butterbeer, Winky. Come back when you can make sense."

"No-No!" Winky protested in a whisper. "No Butterbeer for days. Not since it happened. Am too angry at Dobby for not…" she began to hit her head on the four poster and Harry pulled her away from it.

"Don't. Don't. It's all right, Winky. You want me to talk to Dobby?"

Winky nodded furiously. "Please. Tell Dobby to forgive. Please. Winky would jump at the chance Dobby treats like rubbish. Please, Harry Potter. Dobby will listen to YOU."

"I'll speak to him, I promise, but I can't guarantee he will listen."

"That's all Winky asks of you. Thank you, Harry Potter," Winky bowed. "Winky is in your debt."

"Tell her to lay off the Butterbeer and put on a clean apron, Harry." Ron said sullenly.

Winky hung her head in shame. Harry knelt down beside her. "Ron's right, Winky. Please, no more Butterbeer. It wasn't your fault what happened at the Quidditch Cup. The Crouch family is gone now and Dumbledore doesn't need anymore problems than he already has. You have to let it go."

Tears flooded Winky's eyes. "Harry Potter is too kind to Winky. I will not drink any more Butterbeer, sir. I swear, but I cannot forgive myself for my part in such evil deeds." Winky began to cry again.

"Winky," Harry said gravely, "if you can't forgive yourself, how can anyone else? You better go now. I'll find Dobby in the morning."

Winky stood a long time in silence, then calmly gave Harry a low bow and walked out of the room. After the elf left, Ron blew out the candles and climbed into bed. "Harry?" he said after a few minutes.

"Yes, Ron."

"Will you be my best man?"

Harry blinked in the darkness. "You mean, at your wedding?"

"Yeah."

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" Harry ventured cautiously.

"As soon as I can afford a ring, I'm asking her to marry me. I'm not going to waste another 5 years fiddling about."

"Save your money for a ring, but don't rush into anything, Ron." Harry advised.

"Let her choose it, you mean? Yeah. Girls prefer that, eh? It's just- what if she wants a 15 carat sapphire or something?"

"She's not like that." Harry stifled a laugh. "Ron, you've only been going out for a month. Don't worry about rings right now. Start slow. Maybe getting used to being kissed should be your next priority."

Ron sighed. "I suppose. But you'll be my best man, right?"

"I'll be the flower girl if you want. Go to sleep."

Ron sighed happily. "Good night, Harry."

There was a long pause. "Harry?"

"Yeah, Ron."

"What you said to Winky, I think you may have hit a nerve." Ron sat up and looked at Harry earnestly. "Look, Harry, have - have you forgiven _yourself_? I know you think you're to blame for what happened to Sirius, but-"

Harry sat up and flared, "It was my fault, Ron. I'll never forgive myself for that." Harry didn't add, 'or Snape, or Dumbledore'.

"Sirius had a soul, Harry. You will see him again. And your parents. Follow your own good advice, all right?" Ron turned over and soon Harry heard his friend's snores.

Sleep did not come to Harry for a long time. He was thinking about the Arch with the tattered veiled curtain and the murmuring voices he had heard. Why was the Arch was there? If it was a door into Death, why would such a thing exist? Harry kept worrying at the idea of it. Doors worked both ways, didn't they??

Harry finally slept and dreamed of elves begging for his forgiveness, but he would not give it. He woke feeling vaguely sick.

Dobby was sitting in the Hogwart's pantry, a little clipboard held tightly in his hand.

"Dobby?" Harry ventured. He expected a flurry of activity and the usual exuberant greeting but Dobby only smiled at Harry slightly. The elf looked as if he had been weeping.

"Hello, Harry Potter. Winky has been to see you about Dobby, yes?"

Harry nodded. "I have no idea what is going on, Dobby, but Winky was very upset. Are you in trouble? Can I help?"

Dobby wiped a fat tear away. "Harry Potter is a good friend. But Dobby has not decided what Dobby will or will not do. Dobby must see if she is worthy of forgiveness. Dobby must wait and see."

Harry cringed inwardly at the bitterness in the elf's voice. "She's promised not to drink butterbeer anymore," Harry protested. She's still upset over Barty Crouch."

Dobby laughed a little. "No, no! Dobby is not mad at Winky, Harry Potter. No elf has ever had to make a decision like in a long time. Last time things went very badly. Dobby must think very carefully about this. Very powerful magic like this can go dreadfully wrong. Elfkind has great power, but only in service of others. She must be deserving of it, Harry Potter. She must prove herself worthy."

Harry was confused. "Who? Who must prove worthy?"

Dobby gazed mysteriously at Harry. "She who must not be named."

Harry was unable to tell Ron or Hermione about what Dobby said. In Defense Against the Dark Arts class too much happened and he didn't remember until later.

A note was left on the board. Professor Cat would be late and there was assignment to read chapter 5. The class dutifully began to read, except for Hermione, who already had read it, and Draco, who was made rude noises at Crabbe because moved his mouth when he tried to read.

A massive dragon suddenly reared up behind them and roared terribly. Its leathery wings flapped as the students hit the floor and crawled under desks for protection. A flowery smell wafted over them. One girl screamed so shrilly that somewhere glass shattered. Only Harry, Hermione and Draco were unfazed and stood their ground.

The dragon faded as the Professor stood, calm and veiled in the doorway. "Twenty points to Gryffindor and ten to Slytherin. How did you know Hermione?"

"There was no wind created when the dragon flapped its wings."

"Excellent. Harry?"

"A full sized dragon cannot creep though a door that small without being heard."

"Right again. Draco?"

"Your perfume is very undragon-like," Draco sneered, "and you wear too much of it. I smelled you before I saw your pathetic illusion."

She approached Draco and gave him a nod. "Very good, Malfoy. Not all illusions fool all of a person's senses. Trust your instincts, but follow mostly your _common_ sense."

Professor Cat passed Malfoy on her way to her desk. Harry helped Ron out from under the desk and glanced up just in time to see Draco snatch the veil away revealing the Professor's face. Harry stood in stunned silence, along with many others.

Cat Tuebor was beautiful. Perfect. Lovely beyond description. Clearly, this was not what Draco expected. She flicked the veil from his hand with a smirk and began to replace it. Hermione muttered something under her breath and flicked her wand. Harry glanced at her. Something seemed to shimmer in front of Hermione's eyes, and then she gasped in horror and ran out of the room. Ron was too absorbed in gawping at his teacher to notice.

Professor Cat finished replacing the veil. "Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy."

"Just following my instincts, _Professor_," Draco replied coldly.

"She's gorgeous," breathed Ron in the hallway later. "Why does she wear that thing if she's so –"

"Revolting." Hermione said as she caught up to them. "It's like half her face was melted off." She was pale as she shook in anger.

"What?" said Ron and Harry simultaneously.

"Her beauty is just an illusion. I did the Collyrium spell to see through her illusion and saw her true form. She's really hideous. I mean she's _really_ disgusting to look at."

"That horrible!" Ron said. "Poor Professor C-"

"Poor nothing." Hermione cried indignantly. "Do you now how she maintains that façade? With a beauty potion that uses Veela blood! It's horrible, vain and selfish!"

"Veela blood?" Ron blanched.

"Who told you that?" Harry asked, and realized with a jolt that he had felt Professor Cat had a veela-ish aura about her.

"I got sick after I saw her. Pomfrey asked what happened and I told her what happened. Pomfrey said Tuebor's the worst sort of person Dumbledore has ever brought into this school and I have to agree. No wonder Snape and Hagrid are half-addled over her. Veela blood, indeed!"

Ron stopped and stared at Hermione. "Professor Cat has Veela's killed for their blood to make a beauty potion?"

Hermione hesitated. "Well, no. Veela's sometimes sell their blood for money, but that doesn't excuse her. It's still exploitation."

"How did she get so disfigured in the first place," Harry asked.

"No one really knows for sure," Hermione said coldly, "but I'll bet she deserved it."

"Why use illusions if you can use Polyjuice potion?" Ron asked.

Hermione snorted. "Any squib can use Polyjuice if you have a hair of the person you want to look like. If you want to look like someone else for a little while the Polyjuice potion is more reliable, but much harder to make. Illusions can be of anything, and they last a lifetime, but they are easier to detect if you know how to look for them."

"Oh," said Ron, who clearly did not understand why that was important.

"_She_ who must not be named??" Ginny commented when Harry later told them all about his encounter with Dobby.

"I though that was odd too. I'm certain he didn't mean V- a certain evil wizard. It was more like he was making a joke or something," Harry explained the conversation as best he could. "Dobby might forgive this person, but I doubt it. Still, Winky was ecstatic to hear that Dobby is at least reconsidering.

"Yeah," added Ron with approval. "The Gryffindor's common room was crammed full of snacks when I arrived after class. Winky looks clean and sober for the first time in years. She was asking me loads of questions."

"You said something about the power of elves?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Their power comes from being in the service of others or something."

"All this time you've tried to free them, but it turns out they die or go mad if they do not have some kind of master." Ginny said to Hermione. "I asked one of them about it. Maybe you should talk to them before trying to free them again, hmm?"

"Best to let SPEW go, Hermione," Ron added tentatively.

"Dumbledore is NO master. Dobby is paid. He's an employee. If he can do it so can the others," Hermione countered angrily.

"But an elf still needs PURPOSE to live, paid or not," Ginny replied loudly, mostly because Ron was now too timid to argue with his girlfriend.

"Elves are common but still very mysterious creatures. I just need to do more research. C'mon Ron!" Hermione stumped away and Ron meekly followed.

Harry and Ginny discreetly waited until they out of earshot before they burst into laughter.

Ginny began to collect her books. "Just wait until they try to get married. Maybe Fred and George will kidnap him the night before and try to deprogram him," she said hopefully.

"They might as well be married now,' Harry observed. "Ron'll stand up for himself eventually, but remind me to duck when he does."

"You and me both." Ginny waved to group of approaching girls and got up to join them. "Later, Harry."

He noticed Ginny forgot her extendable ears and he put them in his pocket to give to her later.

Harry decided to go visit Hagrid. The giant opened the door with an expectant look and seemed disappointed.

'Bad time?" Harry, hurt that Hagrid wasn't pleased to see him, backed off.

'No, just was hoping fer… ah, never mind. Tea?" The giant fidgeted with his new, and far too small, necktie.

"Yeah, thanks."

A hairy bag of spikes was creeping slowly over the hut floor, leaving a thick trail of disgusting slime. Fang cowered in a corner, clearly terrified of whatever it was.

"Mind Spot, there. Mind the ooze as well. It's slippery. Threw out me back slipping on it this mornin',"

Harry carefully stepped over the intersecting trails of slime. The drier smears were very sticky and he nearly lost a shoe. "Er… what is Spot, exactly?"

"I have no idea, really" Hagrid said quite unconcerned, "but Snape needs him for that potion of his, and Spot likes the hut best, so here he stays until he molts some o' them spikes."

A knock came and Hagrid nearly fell on the slime twice in his haste to get the door. Professor Cat stood in the doorway, tall and veiled.

"Hagrid! Sorry, I'm late. I – oh. Hullo, Harry."

Harry stood. "Well, time for me to be off, Hagrid. Nice to meet you, Spot." He carefully stepped onto the few bare spots on the floor and slipped past the Dark Arts Professor.

"Ta, Harry. Anytime," Hagrid called after him gratefully. Harry watched the professor enter Hagrid's hut. Hagrid closed the door and drew the curtains. The hut suddenly trembled as Hagrid fell. Harry heard Hagrid curse. "Stupid bloody slime. No, no! I'm alright."

Harry reached into his pocket and felt for the extendable ears. He did not feel right spying on Hagrid, but something about Professor Cat disturbed him. Something he felt he needed to know.

He slipped behind a tree, put them on and pointed one end at Hagrid's hut. He could hear the slug slithering across the floor.

"I've got tea."

"I can't eat or drink in front of you. Sorry, Rubi, but thanks."

_Rubi_? Harry thought appalled.

"Ye can't hide forever. It gives him power over ye, ye know that! I don't care what ye look like. And neither will anyone else if ye give 'em a chance."

"He knows me too well, Rubius. My vanity is still my greatest weakness. It's better this way. Trust me."

"Well," Hagrid huffed, "Snape will set you right. That potion'll clear yeh right up by Christmas, eh?" The sharp tink of mugs and the sploosh of water indicated tea being served.

"Severus cannot help me. He wastes time and effort on my behalf. And so do you," Professor Cat said sadly. "I don't deserve your consideration. I can never undo all the harm I've done. The Veil -"

"Yer trying to set things right, Hecatean. Just like Snape is and does. That's a noble thing. And right now we need all the help we can get against Yeh Know Who."

"Rubi, I don't deserve you."

Harry hurriedly pulled the extendable ear out and leaned against the tree, sickened. Hecatean? Professor Cat was Hecatean _Malfoy_!?

Harry stormed away, malicious thoughts filling his mind. Neville's parents were still at St. Mungo's because she stole the Innubibus Vine.  She was Draco's aunt! No wonder Snape was desperate to help her. No wonder she favoured Draco in class! She was a Malfoy!

He ran towards the library, and then reconsidered and headed to the kitchens instead. Dobby was sweeping out a cold fireplace. Harry knelt and whispered furiously, "Dobby! Was it Hecatean Malfoy who asked your forgiveness?"

Dobby nodded grimly. "She was horrible to Dobby, Harry Potter. Very cruel. Even more so than Master was. But Mistress Hecatean has not been considered family for years. She has no power over Dobby now, but still she is a Malfoy. Dobby was bound to the Malfoy family, Harry Potter," Dobby eyes watered, "and a few days ago Mistress Hecatean knelt to DOBBY. Knelt! and wept and said she was sorry for how she treated me all those years ago. Dobby was, and still is, very confused."

"If you forgive," Harry asked, as a sick feeling grew in his stomach, "what will happen?"

"Power, Harry Potter." Dobby answered miserably. "Power to ask for a thing to be done. She might ask for her curse of disfigurement to be lifted, or she might ask that Dobby be bound to Malfoy family again. This is Dobby's fear. Dobby does not know what to do. Dobby is free, and wants to stay that way."

"Do nothing, Dobby," Harry said frantically. "This could be a trick."

"Trick, Harry Potter?"

"She might wish for many things. Like the Death Eaters freed from Azkaban, for instance."

Dobby's eyes widened then narrowed. "Dobby will think about what Harry Potter has said. We must see if she is worthy. In the end, Dobby must decide."

"Please Dobby, do nothing." Harry pleaded. "Talk to me first, before you do anything. Will you promise?"

Dobby agreed, but Harry did not feel any less concerned.

His scar ached again as he walked back to the hall, but he said nothing to anyone about that.


	4. HP and the Veil of Souls 4

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls **__**

By Bardvahalla/Bardess 2004 (bardessmagma.ca)

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG 13)

Chapter Four

What Cats Drag In

"Does Draco know Professor Cat is his long lost auntie?" Ron wondered, "because he really seems to loathe her."

"I have no idea." Harry pulled bits of down from the bottom of his quill. As he did so, he imagined the quill screaming in pain. "All I know is I would never trust a Malfoy if my life depended on it, and my life does. I figure she's manipulating Dobby to free the her vile brother and the rest of the Death Eaters."

"Yeah, right!" Ron agreed, "The whole thing's probably a big put on. Remember that first Dark Arts class? She was going on about how Draco was in more danger than you? I hardly think that's likely. It was probably planned right from the start to keep everyone off Malfoy's back this year. Especially now that his dad's in prison and his family is poor." Ron took personal satisfaction in knowing Draco was not able to throw money around like he used to.

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, you don't know that. Why don't you -"

"Talk to Dumbledore?" Harry mimicked curtly.

"-talk to Lupin," she finished triumphantly. "Hecatean Malfoy would have been at Hogwart's at the same time as Lupin. Ask him about her. I don't trust her but I won't jump to conclusions either. I like facts." She pushed a piece of blank parchment over to Harry and then left the table.

Ron almost got up to follow her, then stopped himself. "I have to stop doing that," Ron blushed, and then added in a low voice, "I nearly followed her into the girl's loo yesterday."

Harry smiled as Ron pulled out a sheaf of order forms and began to fill them out. Fred and George gave Ron a 15 per cent commission on any joke shop orders he generated from Hogwarts. Judging from the heavy bag of coins Ron locked in his trunk every night, he would be able to buy any ring he wanted by the end of the year. Harry thought it was refreshing to see Ron not worried about money anymore. Both Ron and Ginny had all new books and robes this year.

"It might be good to take a break now and then," Harry suggested, "You know, do things apart from Hermione from time to time."

"What are you saying?" Ron bristled.

"Nothing," Harry quickly said as he finished his letter to Lupin, "but just remember what the most important thing is."

Ron deflated and sighed. "Hermione would say 'homework'."

Harry poked at him with his tattered quill,  "But we both know its Quidditch, right?"

Ron looked around for Hermione first, and then answered boldly, "Right."

Lupin answered Harry's owl almost immediately. _"Do not trust this woman. She is almost certainly trying to reinstate herself with V. DD is aware of this desire and hopes she will tip her hand by Christmas. Guard your thoughts and keep practicing with S. We will meet again soon._

_L."_

Hermione was more than a bit dismayed. "I can't believe Dumbledore hired her knowing she was a traitor."

" "Keep your friends close and enemies closer", Hermione," Ron quoted.

"Ron?" she cried in delight, "You actually quoted someone!"

Ron flushed. "Don't start getting any high hopes for me as a scholar."

After he finished his homework, Harry went for a walk to mull Lupin's letter over. Something was worrying at his memory, like a mosquito hovering that he could never get close enough to slap down. His scar was vaguely bothering him, but not enough to really concern him. Still, whenever he put his guard up, the feeling went away.

Harry realized he was outside the nurseries and heard Professor Sprout shout in anger. He went to investigate. Professor Sprout had confronted Professor Cat in one of the greenhouses.

"His parents have been trapped in a living hell, not to mention what poor Neville's had to endure without them. You are fully to blame for THAT!"

"I do not make excuses for myself. I am only trying to fix what little I can," Professor Cat answered. "I can assure you the vines are of the highest quality. With your skill I am certain you can produce enough to help the Longbottoms by -."

"Just so you can steal it again? I'm not an idiot, Hecatean! I'll take back what was only mine to begin with, but I'll set so many spells that if you ever come within a breath of my greenhouses again I'll see you turned into MULCH!"

She snatched two pots from the Professor's outstretched hands and stomped away. Harry darted behind a rack of seedlings until Professor Cat left.

Professor Sprout carefully studied the vines as Harry strode up the narrow path. Rare and unusual plants lay on either side of him. Some of the plants were trying to eat each other.

"Harry, come look at these!" Harry peered at the plants. They were droopy, bright green and twisted. A few tiny buds had emerged within their centers. Harry had never seen Professor Sprout so excited. "Innubibus vines, Harry! Two of them!! So rare and delicate they are almost never found and are very difficult to raise. These nearly ten years old each! They even look as if they might flower soon! I thought they might be some petty illusion of hers, but they're real. I can't believe it. I wonder where she found them?"

"These plants can help Neville's parents?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Yes! If I can coax them to flower we can make a potion that might break the madness that binds them. Innubibus only ever flowers once every decade!" Professor Sprout suddenly grew serious. "Oh Harry! Say nothing of this to Neville. I don't want to give the poor boy false hope."

"I promise," Harry said reluctantly. His heart thumped so hard within his chest that it hurt. If only there was even a shadow of a hope he could get his parents back, he would want to know it.

His dreams were dark and disturbing. He saw full red lips in the dark, and red-slitted eyes in the distance. He heard Voldemort laughing to himself as he slithered on cold wet stone and through cold iron bars. He was insanely happy. He was shouting things in Parseltongue. Harry woke up, his scar aching, his heart filled with dread.

Lately, Professor Snape had been even more sharp-tongued as the Fictillus potion reached its final stages and the strain on Hermione was growing a few weeks before Christmas break.

"If anything goes wrong, I know he'll blame me," she moaned that morning at breakfast.

"Hermione, you've done everything possible and you are miles ahead of everyone else. Relax."

"Ron's right, Hermione," Harry said, grateful to think about someone other than himself. "Snape does all the tricky stuff anyhow. If the potion doesn't work he can't blame you."

Ron scowled. "If it does work, he'll take all the credit anyway."

Hermione tried to distract herself with the Monday edition of the _Daily Prophet_. It worked. She let out a horrified gasp. "They're gone. Every last one of them!"

A growing murmur of outrage was filling the Hall as other students read the paper.

"Who?" Ron peered over her shoulder to see.

"The Death Eaters!" Hermione cried. "They just vanished last night. Oh Harry, they could be anywhere!"

Harry felt a chill go up his back. He turned and looked for Draco. Malfoy was serenely staring at Harry. When Harry caught his eye, Draco pointed at him, smiled and drew a finger across his neck.

Harry chose a certain finger, flipped it at Draco, and then turned away. "We have to get word to the Order," Harry said softly. "I dreamed about You Know Who last night. I'm certain it was him who arranged the break from Azkaban. He was so happy it woke me up."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. Finally, Ron cleared his throat. "Harry? We have to be extra careful in case a – erm - certain wizard is listening. You told us about your scar yourself, Harry."

Harry bristled, "Yeah, it's been bothering me a bit but-" he stopped and with an effort, Harry pushed his resentment away and took a breath. "No. You're right. Just tell me what's safe to know. Tell Lupin, or whoever you think is best, about my dream."

His friends looked relieved and continued reading the paper. Harry wanted to scream. He loathed not being able to talk, or even think, freely.

Ron strained to look, and then grumbled, "Why don't you read aloud so we'll ALL know, Hermione."

Harry's eyes widened. An idea struck him and he ran to find the Headmaster.

The headmaster was away and McGonigall was reluctant to discuss it. Harry figured Dumbledore was with the Order and so he did not press for details. That evening there was a long session of Emotion Control with Snape. "Some spells require emotion, other need a cool head," Professor Snape said curtly. "He will try to keep you unfocused. You must not let mere words and taunts sway you. In a way, Potter, I've been trying to teach you that for years."

"Yes sir, " Harry said, though he did not believe it.

Snape leaned over him, a hard look in his eyes. "Potter, that night you decided to…" Snape's lips twisted somewhat, "pry into my private thoughts. Which one did you see?"

Harry could not meet Snape's eyes for a moment, then with an effort he looked up and admitted, "It was the time my dad was being a real prat to you, and my mum tried to help you. That day after your exams, down by the water. Then you came back and I never saw the rest."

Snape closed his eyes in relief and turned away from Harry. "That was the only memory you saw?" Snape asked after a pause.

"Yes," Harry said.

It seemed a great weight had been lifted off the Potions master and that he was trying not to show it. Harry did not like Snape and knew he never would. Sirius and Snape had loathed each other. Besides, Harry's instincts told him Snape was often lying through his teeth when he answered Harry's direct questions regarding Voldemort.

"You're doing better, Potter," Snape finally said. "That's all for tonight. Now get out."

Harry went straight to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster motioned Harry into his chambers. "Harry, come in. Sit down. Sherbet Lemon?" Dumbledore offered him a pale yellow candy.

"No sir." Harry looked around for Fawkes, but the bird was nowhere to be seen. "I need to ask something."

"What on your mind, Harry?" Dumbledore asked around a mouthful of sweets.

"Actually, it's about who's been _in_ my mind. Sir, can- can you tell if he's in there – in my mind right now?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "You do not trust your own instincts?"

Harry took a breath. "I get the feeling everyone is watching what they say. I know that's only prudent, but I need to know if Vo- a certain someone is there now and I can't tell."

The Headmaster considered his answer. "Your scar is the best watchdog you have, Harry. If You Know Who is listening, you will know." Dumbledore smiled and pressed a sherbet lemon into Harry's hand. Harry concentrated. His scar was niggling at him a bit, but he felt certain Voldemort was not present.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What if I was willing to try to go after him? The Death Eaters have escaped. We need to know what's going on."

Dumbledore shook his head. "You are not experienced enough for such an attempt, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I know I'm not, but you are. What if you went _through_ me, like someone listening to someone else read aloud from a newspaper?"

Dumbledore stared at him in horror, as if Harry had sprouted a second nose. He shook his head violently. "Such a venture would be very risky, Harry! You might never come back to your senses. Even deep rooted memory charms are less dangerous!"

"I trust you, sir. We have to know what he's up to," Harry pleaded. "Hypnotize me or something. Bait a trap with his name and see what you can find out."

Dumbledore paced for a few moments in agitation. "I will not put you in such peril. It is too risky, Harry. It is an extremely brave thing you have volunteered to do, but I cannot emphasis how dangerous it might be. I will consider the matter again if the situation becomes dire," Dumbledore stopped pacing, and peered at Harry sideways, "but for now, Harry, it is not a risk that I, nor you, should be willing to take."

Harry left Dumbledore's office, the lemon candy still sticking wetly to his hand.

That night he dreamed Stewart Evans was punching Voldemort's face in the park in Little Whinging. He pulled Stewart off and then Voldemort turned and attacked him. Harry tried to fight back but his fists turned into twisted plants and he could only toss dead leaves at Voldemort's laughing face.

A fortnight before Christmas break, Hermione was relieved to find Professor Snape wanted his cabinet key returned. The potion was now distilled to a single bottle of pale blue liquid, of which he took sole charge.

The class then started on a series of preventative spell potions, most of which were far less complicated and far more interesting. Snape was still washing his hair regularly, and even had been spotted passionately embracing Professor Cat in the Forbidden Forest by Seamus and Neville. Snape spotted them staring and docked Gryffindor fifty points but nobody really cared. It was too out of character for Snape not to be delightfully gossiped about by all the houses. Draco seemed particularly annoyed by the gossip. Harry figured Draco knew Professor Cat has his aunt and was unhappy his favorite teacher was enamored of her.

Days later Harry heard the gossip about Professor Cat had reached Hagrid's ears with horrific results. Filch was loudly complained the giant had gone on a bender, and was completely besotted.

Harry ran down to see his friend and noticed a pile of neckties lying discarded in a puddle of Spot's slime just outside the hut. Hagrid smelled like a brewery, and was mumbling incoherently until he spotted Harry in his doorway.

"'Arry! Eh! How's things?" The giant hiccoughed and set the hut shaking. "Can it be yeh've come to visit yer ugly old pal, 'Agrid."

"She's not worth it, Hagrid," Harry said sternly and shoved away Hagrid's beer stein. He set to making a strong pot of tea. It wasn't easy and it was a good thing he'd kept working out. Lifting the huge iron kettle was a strain.

"She's just one of many who've broken me 'art, 'Arry," Hagrid slurred. "I'm doomed to die alone. I just hoped tha' one day I might have a wee family of me own, y'know? Norbert and Buckbeak and that lot were great, but it's no' the same as a son or daughter, is it? Even me own brother – well, it's futile me even thinking about it. I'll never have my own family. Not really."

"That's likely my fate too, Hagrid," Harry pushed a huge mug of steaming tea over to his friend. "Anyone I love is going to be a target for 'you know who'. Unless we can kill him, I'm doomed to either die or die alone. It looks like there'll no more Potters either."

Hagrid's lips trembled in rage. "Not if I have anything to say about tha'! I'll twist old Voldemort into a necktie before I let the likes of Tom Riddle ruin-" Hagrid stood and promptly slipped on patch of Spot's slime. He fell hard and landed flat on his back. The hut shook so violently that a wall cracked.

"Hagrid!" Harry cried just as his scar suddenly blazed with pain. Harry leaned against the table and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Voldemort's distant laughter.

_"Come on, little Potter. Come and get me."_

Harry felt memories, details and conversations suddenly being plucked out and studied by Voldemort. His mind filled with images of Hecatean unveiled, Snape tutoring him, Hagrid besotted, Ron and Hermione holding hands, Draco sneering and Dumbledore fearful. Harry groped blindly until his hand seized Hagrid's huge tea mug. He deliberately spilled hot tea onto his chest and screamed in pain as the steaming liquid scalded him.

Harry heard Voldemort distantly scream in pain as well. His mind suddenly flew free and his scar immediately stopped hurting. His chest, however, was in agony from the scalding tea. He fell, gasping in pain, onto a sleeping Hagrid. Hagrid mumbled, "Sing me a lullaby, dad," then promptly began to snore.

Harry carefully made his way across the slippery floor. He hissed as he scooped snow onto his badly burned skin. With a great effort he gritted his teeth and gingerly walked all the way to Madame Pomfrey's.

Harry was not allowed to leave the hospital ward. Hermione brought homework, Ron brought chocolate frogs and Luna brought a Quibbler, but no one thought to bring him a _Daily Prophet_. Dumbledore came to by his bedside one night after his friends left. "Things are becoming dire, Harry."

"What do you want me to do," Harry asked without hesitation.

"We may attempt what you suggested in a few days. I want to try other avenues first."

"Yes, sir."

"Sleep. You will need your strength.

Harry drank his hot chocolate and soon felt sleepy. He awoke lightheaded the next afternoon, but his burned skin felt much better.

Harry felt restless as the days passed. Occasionally his scar flared sharply as if Voldemort was poking his mind. It seemed to Harry that Voldemort was simply reminding Harry he was still there and could be there whenever he wanted. Harry stared out the window and tried to concentrate on his homework, or think about Christmas. He did not try to confront Voldemort again.

Madame Pomfrey was a constant presence. She played Exploding Snap with him, helped him with his homework (she was brilliant at potions!) and gave him a mug of excellent hot chocolate every night. He always slept late and she let him eat as much as he wanted. He was ravenous when awake. Dobby and Winky brought him extra treats day or night if he wanted them.

Harry worried the burn might leave a scar.

"Not while I'm in charge of you, my lad," Pomfrey assured him. "I've seen too many burns from spilled potions to let that happen. It will heal clean and you'll never know you scalded yourself."

Days passed but Dumbledore never returned to attempt to spy on Voldemort through him. Harry was both disappointed and relived. Finally, the dressings were removed. A bright pink patch of new skin was still noticeable but eventually, Harry was told, it would disappear. Harry was pronounced healed and allowed to leave two days before Christmas.

Dumbledore assured him he could spend Christmas with Neville, and that any danger was past. Almost all the Death Eaters had been recaptured. Except for Lucius Malfoy, the only one left free was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Somewhat reassured, Harry and Neville boarded the train. Ron had already packed gifts in Harry's trunk from him and Hermione. Harry wanted to go shopping, since he'd not been able to buy presents when he was ill. He would send gifts to his friends via Hedwig.

Neville was pleased to introduce him again to his grandmother. That night, in front of the most enormous fireplace Harry had ever seen (for Neville's grandmother was always cold), Harry told her the tale of their battle with the Death Eaters. She sat listening intently, her watery eyes darted to her grandson when Harry described something Neville had said or done she was completely unaware of. Neville just looked at the floor silently. Harry realized Neville had downplayed his own role in the battle, probably so she would not worry.

She wept when Harry told her Neville faced death rather than allow Harry give up the prophecy to save him. Harry explained how her son's wand came to be broken.

"Your parents would have burst with pride to know this, Neville," his grandmother said proudly when Harry finished. Neville flushed even more, and shot a grateful smile at Harry.

The next day they went shopping for presents. Diagon Alley was packed with last minute shoppers. Harry had just sent Hedwig off with gifts for Lupin, Ron, Hagrid and Hermione. He had one for Neville hidden in his backpack. It was a book. _Combining Karate with Defensive Wand Maneuvers_ by a famous wizard from the Orient.

Neville was laughing with Fred and George in their shop. It had fast become the favourite haunt for young wizards internationally. Ron was there, working hard, organizing orders for delivery to Hogwarts next term. He was wearing a leather jacket identical to his brothers and looking very pleased with himself.

"Harry! Come see the new stuff they've come up with!"

Ron took Neville and Harry into a workshop in the back. Cages with rats lined a back wall. They were a variety of brilliant colours. "They can't experiment on first years anymore, can they?" explained Ron and picked up a bowl of what appeared to be Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "Now they not only taste bad, they make you turn a different colour for five minutes after you eat one. Brilliant, eh? Fred and George are going to make a presentation to Bertie Bott himself next week."

Neville ate one and turned a dull green immediately. He grimaced and spat it out. "Ugh! BOGEY!"

The Weasley's closed the shop and took a break. They all joined Harry and Neville in the Leaky Cauldron. "Percy's still being a complete prat," Ron said sullenly, "Mum and dad have tried everything. Even Fudge spoke to him about it, but no dice. He even sent back the presents we tried to give him. Everyone but mum has given up on him."

"Fred and George could kidnap him. Then we could put a memory charm on him," Harry suggested seriously. Even as he spoke it, the idea seemed familiar. A memory niggled at him but he could not pin it down.

"That would work. He can't be angry over something he can't recall." Fred agreed heartily.

"I'll ask Hermione about memory charms. We can practice on Malfoy." Ron grinned maliciously. "Hey! I saw Draco and his mum coming out of Gringott's all pinchy-faced and fuming. They still can't get at their accounts until the Lucius's sentence is complete."

George suddenly grew serious. "You know they're talking about execution now that the Dementors are no longer guarding the prison. I overheard dad talking. Dumbledore is against it, but the Ministry wants to get it over with."

Harry stared at Ron. "You mean Lucius Malfoy and the other Death eaters might be sentenced to die?"

"Only way to be sure, isn't it?" Fred said coldly. "There are things worse than death, anyway."

"How do you, I mean …  how would they do it?" Neville asked.

Ron shuddered. "That's the thing, Harry. The Ministry used to execute dark wizards before they had Dementors to watch them. They – " Ron hesitated then whispered, "They push them through the Arch of Peace, past the Veil of Souls. That was the same Arch that Sirius fell through. That way they can't come back like Voldemort did."

Harry blanched and was silent for a long time. The Veil of Souls.

There was no hope then. Sirius was gone. Soul and all.

"Harry?" Neville nudged Harry.

"I'm fine," Harry said, and then glanced up. They were all looking at him in sympathy. Harry shrugged, "In a way he's free, isn't he? No more Dementors. No more living on the run. No more confined to a house, unable to fight. It's over. I kind of envy him actually."

No one said anything for a long time, and then suddenly George belched very loudly and broke the tension. Fred grinned and held up a tiny glimmering bubble. "_Big Burp Belcher Bubbles_. Just in time for Christmas. Try them."

Soon they were all making revolting sounds and causing such a commotion laughing they were asked to leave the pub. As they belched their way out the door they heard a hunchbacked witch complained from behind a battered copy of the _Daily Prophet as they left._ "Honestly, why can't young wizards take things more seriously these troubled days!"


	5. HP and the veil of Souls 5

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (Fanfiction)**__**

By Bardvahalla/Bardess 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG-13)

Chapter Five

Mind Games

Christmas morning came and went in a quiet, pleasant manner. Harry got his annual jumper from Mrs Weasley, and a set of quills from Hermione. One even wrote in invisible ink. Ron gave him a silver framed picture of himself, Hermione, Lupin and Hagrid together. Lupin gave Harry a gold ring. It had a fine etching of a Phoenix and an engraving inside it. "Harry - You never know be sure what will rise from the ashes. Love Sirius". The note from Lupin explained Sirius had it made for him for his 16th birthday, but Lupin hadn't come across it until after, so he saved it for Christmas instead.

Neville's grandmother seemed agitated at first, but Neville told Harry she wasn't used to having company. After breakfast they went flying on snowbrooms down a gorge behind Longbottom Manor. By early afternoon they returned red-faced and laughing to the house for lunch.

Neville's Grandmother was waiting for them in the hall. Her face was was blotchy and red from crying.

"Gran, what is it!" Neville said fearfully.

He became even more flustered when she smiled. "Come and see. It's a miracle, Neville. A real Christmas miracle!"

Harry's heart leapt. "Madame Sprout? Did they-?" He felt his throat close up. Mrs Longbottom nodded, her eye tearing up again.

"What is it, Harry?!" Neville became even more alarmed that Harry seemed to know what was going on.

Harry pushed Neville towards his grandmother. "Go see, Neville. Go see. It's all right. Really."

Mrs Longbottom took her grandson's hand and led him into the den. Harry did not move. He stood still in the hallway, listening to his heart beating.

Then he heard Neville cry out. "Mum! Dad!"

Suddenly a woman voice was crying out in joy and a man was weeping aloud, "My son, my beautiful son!"

Harry suddenly turned and ran into an empty room. He crumpled to the floor and thrust his mittens in his mouth. At first he wept in joy for Neville, but then suddenly, envy filled him. He sobbed because he would never get his parents back. Nor Sirius. There would never be such a Christmas miracle for Harry Potter.

He hated Voldemort more than ever in that moment. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and sought him out. He was there in a heartbeat. He peered through Voldemort's red-slitted eyes. Bellatrix was writhing on the floor, bleeding from her fingertips as she clawed the floor and sobbed in pain. He felt Voldemort's eyes widen in an expression of surprise.

Hatred surged through Harry as he felt for Voldemort's most precious memories and shredded them in his fury without trying to comprehend them.

"I HATE YOU, RIDDLE! HATE HATE HATE HATE!" His felt his fist smash into something soft. It felt good. He tried to punch whatever it was again.  Voldemort's face hurt. His face hurt. He fought and fought but then Voldemort resisted him.

Harry heard a woman scream. At first he thought it was the memory of his mother, but then he recognized it was someone else.

His aunt? His aunt Petunia was screaming? No. No it was someone else.

Blackness filled his soul and he fell into a deep, dark, numb void.

It was dark and quiet. He was lost. He heard a persistent murmur. He tried to think of a name he could call out to for help. He couldn't remember any names. He was trapped in the darkness, for a very long time, simply trying to think of a name.

He thought he smelled flowers, and that made him think of Lily. Lily was the name of a flower, wasn't it? Lily was a name…

Harry slowly and painfully woke up in a bed. He was lying in a dim ward. A candle flickered somewhere close by. He shifted onto his side and gasped in pain. He was very stiff and he looked around. There was another patient nearby. He looked familiar. Harry slowly realized he was in St. Mungo's lying in a bed next to a slumbering, snoring Lockhart.

Harry blearily thought he was still somehow trapped in a horrific nightmare. He whimpered at the sight of Lockhart murmuring about autographs. He heard footsteps and saw Lupin kneel beside his bed.

"And I thought Sirius was reckless," Lupin croaked from exhaustion. "Don't ever do that again, Harry. We nearly lost you. The Longbottom's found you on the floor, hitting yourself in the face. You even broke your own nose."

"Where am I now?" Harry rasped. It hurt to talk.

"You're in St. Mungo's. Christmas day was over three weeks ago. You fool. You desperate fool! It was because of Neville parents, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Harry felt his fists tighten as he remembered. "I was jealous. More jealous than I'd ever been of anyone. I would sell my soul to be Neville now."

"Never SAY that, Harry." Lupin cried. "Not even in jest."

"I'm not joking, Remus," Harry fell back onto the pillow and let the tears come.

It was halfway through February when the Headmaster finally paid Harry a visit and it was not to be a pleasant one. Dumbledore's words smacked Harry in the heart with the force of a death curse. After more than five weeks at St. Mungo's Harry was being told he might never leave.

"Sir, no! I feel fine!" Harry protested in horror.

Dumbeldore did not relent. "You must stay here, Harry. Don't make me cast containment spells to enforce this. I would rather have your cooperation."

"I can't stay here! Not here! Anywhere but here. Please!" Harry begged.

"I'm sure it's only for a few more weeks, my dear boy." Dumbledore assured him. "Lupin will continue to tutor you through your courses, except during full moon, of course."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes. "I'm not mad. I swear my scar hasn't hurt since I got here. Please sir, please. I want to go back to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore was visibly upset, but firm. "You are too dangerous, Harry. To both yourself and your friends. You are too accessible to Volemort. I don't know what you did to him when you ravaged his mind, but until we are certain, we dare not let you out on your own."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but Dumbledore raised his hand.

"He might be more docile, or he might be more vicious. Whatever the result, you two are even more connected that ever. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry glared at him in bitter resentment but said nothing.

"Will you give me your word you will stay until I give you leave to go, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"One month," Harry spat finally. "One month is the longest I will wait."

"I hope we won't need that long. Thank you, Harry."

Lupin and Lockhart came in to check on him after the headmaster had gone. Harry refused to speak. His heart was breaking, and his scar ached. At night, just before he fell asleep, he would hear a distant, cold and cruel laugh, just for a moment, and then it passed. He'd promised one month, but suspected he would go mad long before that.

He refused to look at anyone. He refused to talk to anyone for days. He felt numb and furious at the same time. Harry wasn't allowed newspapers or visitors, or his owl, Hedwig. He wasn't allowed to ask questions about Voldemort. Harry couldn't even use his own wand for homework. They'd locked his up at Hogwart's. He'd been given a loaner wand. The same wand that Lockhart had used to help the Longbottoms. It wasn't as reliable as his own.

His world became lessons with Lupin, textbooks, scrolls and weekly sessions with Snape to practice keeping his mind closed. He was rarely allowed letters. Scrolls from Ron and Hermione were short but warm, yet lacked detail.

Harry felt dead inside. "Dead while waiting to die," he often mumbled. Lupin was very concerned and tried to buck him up. "We'll find him, Harry. We'll find You-Know-Who, and we'll end this.

"I'll end it, Remus," Harry correctly harshly. "Not you. Not Dumbledore. I will. I die or he dies. That's all."

Lockhart paused in writing a reply to fan letter. "How do you spell "marvelous" again?" Harry answered him tonelessly then resumed studying. Locked in a mental ward with Lockhart of all people! How many jokes had Malfoy made up about that? Harry Potter gone loony and was  bunking with Gilderoy Lockhart at St. Mungo's.

Lockhart had regained most of his memories in the past year. His regained skill at memory charms had helped suppress the Longbottom's recollection of their torture. That allowed the healing potion to work to its utmost potential. Harry knew Lockhart was due to be released in a few weeks pending his healer's approval. Hewould be glad to see Gilderoy go. He never forgot that Lockhart left him and Ron to die years before. Luckily, Ron's broken wand had backfired on their teacher and addled his mind. Lockhart claimed he didn't remember that part of their adventure but Harry was sure he was lying.

A month passed in this manner, and then another, and then before Harry could believe it, almost three entire months had gone by. It was already mid May. School was over in a few more weeks.

With nothing to do but study, his grades were excellent but Harry took no pleasure in his now high academic achievements. He was up to 300 pushups a day and as many stomach crunches. He was fit, at least, but again took no pleasure in it. He missed his friends. He missed Quidditch. He wondered if Dumbledore would send him back to the Dursley's this summer.

Dumbledore.

Harry sneered at the thought of his headmaster. Who was that old man to run his life anyway? He wasn't Harry's father. He wasn't his legal guardian? Why did he always defer to that doddering old wizard?

Lupin was away. He always left a day before the full moon, and returned a day after it. Those three days meant Harry was stuck in the ward with only Lockhart for company.

Dumbledore suddenly and unexpected showed up one such evening and stood across from Harry. Harry knew he was there but didn't look up the waving photo of Ron, Hermione, Lupin and Hagrid.

"Bellatrix LeStrange, Lucius Malfoy and Tom Riddle are still at large, Harry."

"Really?" Harry calmly closed his eyes. He seemed oddly glad at the news and refused to meet his headmaster's eyes.

"The captured Death Eaters are being executed tonight," Dumbledore added calmly. Harry looked up in shock as Dumbledore continued, "We could not have caught them without you. I did do as you suggested. Just before Christmas."

Harry frantically thought back. He'd been in the hospital ward at Hogwart's just before Christmas. He slept so much. He was always so hungry. He put two and two together. "The hot chocolate was charmed? You were able to spy on … a certain someone through me?"

"Yes."

Harry scowled in anger. "You didn't tell me because he would have found out how you did it.'

"Yes."

With a great effort, Harry quelled his rage. "Fine. Good. So, when can I get out of here?"

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "Not just yet, Harry."

"WHEN!?" Harry screamed in fury. His scar flared in a bolt of agonizing pain.

Dumbledore seized Harry's face and made him stare into his eyes. The pain emanating from his scar stopped. Harry gasped in relief as Voldemort's presence fled from Dumbledore's penetrating gaze. Dumbledore finally relaxed and let Harry go.

"Do you understand now, Harry? He has become strong again. He's using you, warping your emotions and your pain. He's trying to harden your heart against those you love so you can't resist him like you did last time."

Harry's shoulders shuddered as attempted to repressed his emotions. Dumbledore was right. Voldemort was inside him, twisting him, making him angry and cold. How could he fight such a war as this? He was alone, denied all that he cared about. He grew angry again. By keeping him here Dumbledore was giving Voldemort the edge he needed.

Dumbledore grasped Harry's shoulder. "He will move soon. Perhaps tonight. You've bought us time, but perhaps not enough."

"I want it to be over, Albus," Harry said bitterly, stubbornly refusing to call Dumbledore by the title 'headmaster' anymore. Harry felt he was his equal now. He'd been more than that, hadn't he? He'd been a child fighting a battle on his own. He refused to be treated like an ignorant child anymore.

Dumbledore considered. "I can arrange it so that he can't use you as a weapon, Harry. Will you trust me?"

Harry met Dumbledore's eyes evenly and hissed. "No."

Dumbledore nodded sadly, then exchanged a look with Lockhart.

"I'll come back after the executions, Harry. Why don't you give it some thought."

Lockhart smirked at Harry after Dumbledore left. He was dressed in an outlandish mauve taffeta cape and matching suit. "Well, I'm on my way tonight. Just sign out, then pop round to Hogwarts to fetch my wand and then back off to the book circuit, Harry! My publisher is ecstatic. My tragic illness and miraculous recovery ought to sell out a few printings, don't you think?"

"Have you ever thought of surgery, Gilderoy?" Harry asked resentfully. "You really ought to see about getting that ego removed."

"Now, Harry," Lockhart said silkily, "that's no way for you to behave. Be a good little madman now. Leave this to the sane adults, hmmm?"

Harry bristled. "Just like you did? Just like you were going to abandon Ron and me to the Basilisk? Bugger off, you two-faced lying git! Go sign autographs for yourself. No one else wants them."

Lockhart's smile twisted into an ugly grimace as he idly picked up the loaner wand. "Oh, but I'm a real hero now. Saved the Longbottoms, didn't I? I get more fan mail now than I ever did. I don't see too many letters for you, dear Harry, do I? No. Nobody loves Harry anymore. He's gone mad. Mad. Mad. Mad."

"Get stuffed, Gildy." Harry suddenly swung off the bed to go to the loo. As he did so, Lockhart's charm narrowly missed him.

"What are you doing?!" Harry shouted. Lockhart raised the wand again. Harry dropped to the floor to dodge another spell.

"I remember memory charms now, Harry," Lockhart laughed. "Time for you to forget about tonight! Headmaster's orders! Can't have You Know Who knowing about the executions, eh? But I think I'll remove all your memories just to be certain."

Lockhart raised the wand again just as Harry shoved the metal bed at him with both feet. The steel frame caught Lockhart under the arm and the wand flew back into his face as he shouted the memory charm. Lockhart fell over with a heavy thump.

Harry scrabbled over and snatched up the loaner wand from Lockhart's hand. He stood ready to defend himself, but Lockhart just looked up at Harry with a vacant expression. "Hullo? Do I know you?"

Harry wanted to laugh. Had he really done it again? Had Lockhart once more erased his own memory? "You're the famous Harry Potter." Harry said to Lockhart.

"Am I really? Is my name Harry Potter? Isn't he famous?" Lockhart seemed pleased by the idea.

"Oh yes!" Harry smiled as a plan formed in his mind. "Everyone knows you, Harry. You're a hero! Everyone wants your autograph. I'm Gilderoy Lockhart, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, Gilderoy," Lockhart said pleasantly.

A few minutes later, Harry fixed the room up after he placed an illusion on Lockhart. His old teacher now looked like Harry and Harry looked like him. Harry wrinkled his nose at the idea of wearing pale purple taffeta, but it was his only way out. Lockhart lay happily snoring in Harry's bed, courtesy of a sleep charm and the loaner wand.

As he left the ward, Harry handed over the loaner wand, signed Lockhart's name with a flourish and elegantly kissed the night nurse's hand. "I shall miss this fine place," Harry said silkily, but especially you, my dear."

"Really?" she seemed flustered, "but it's only my first night here."

"Is it? I mean, alas for me!" Harry amended quickly, amazed the nurse didn't see right through such blatant flattery.

The nurse giggled as Harry flipped his 'cape' and sauntered out the door. He had to make an effort not to run and somehow he stayed calm as he waited for the elevator. A hunched figure, cloaked in bright yellow with a large horn sticking out of its distorted face came slithering out of the elevator. Harry entered the elevator, punched the lobby button and with growing confidence, made it to the exit. A few heart pounding moments later, Harry was boarding the Knightbus.

"Hogsmead." Harry said in relief as he handed over a coin.

"Cor! It's Lockhart," squealed a squat witch on the second tier. "Can I get an autograph, Gilderoy, luv?" simpered another, searching for a quill.

Harry plastered on a huge smile but inwardly grimaced.

It was going to be a long ride.


	6. HP and the Veil of Souls 6

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls **__**

By Bardess 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (Fanfiction PG-13)

(bardessmagma.ca)

Chapter Six

An Unexpected Funeral

Still disguised as Lockhart, Harry simply walked up from Hogsmead and entered the castle. Several students waved at him. A few shook his hand warmly. Harry plastered a wide, smarmy grin on his face as he made his way through the corridors. He found Minerva McGonigall pacing in her office, wringing her hands in agitation.

"My dear Minerva," Harry bowed and even added a saucy wink for good measure. "Just here to fetch my wand. Hope it's not a bad time."

"Gilderoy," McGonagall said anxiously, "Have you heard anything?"

"About?" Harry prompted nervously.

"The executions, man! Any word?" McGonigall snapped peevishly. She took out her wand and unlocked a large cabinet.

"No, I haven't heard." Harry said, glancing in the cabinet. His eyes gleamed at the sight of his wand, his Firebolt and a large stack of unopened letters with his name on them. His hands itched to grab it all and run, but he didn't dare.

Professor McGonigall returned to her desk and put her face in her hands. "I don't know how I'll ever get through this night. Oh, there's your wand, Gilderoy. It's next to poor Potter's. I have your wages here as well."

She busied herself with a bag of coins as Harry hurriedly swapped Lockhart's wand with his own. He stuffed his wand away, turned and smiled broadly at her. "Things will work out, Minerva. Don't despair."

Professor McGonigall stood up. "I hope you are right. Albus is taking an awful chance." She closed the cabinet and relocked it with her wand. She handed him the bag of coins. Harry hesitated a moment before he accepted them. It would seem out of place to not take it.

McGonigall's expression softened a bit. "Thank you again for all you've done."

"Whatever have I done, dear lady?" Harry asked guilelessly.

"The Longbottoms, of course." McGonigall now smiled warmly at him. "Oh, don't be modest, Gilderoy. It doesn't suit you. That potion of Snape's would not have worked as well if you had not been there to suppress the memories of Bellatrix's torture."

"It was the least I could do," Harry stammered. The coins felt too heavy in his pocket. "I must go now. It's late."

McGonigall peered at him curiously. Harry hurriedly took her bony hand in his, ducked down and kissed her fingers so she could not get too close a look at him. Harry left with a swoosh of his cape and called over his shoulder, "Back to the book circuit!" He was relieved to hear McGonigall chuckle just as he got out of earshot.

Harry walked swiftly down the first floor corridor on his way back to Hogshead when he spotted Ron and Hermione coming towards him along the hall. He panicked and ducked into the first floor girl's toilet.

He didn't dare try to talk to them. Harry wanted more than anything to tell his friends what was going on but he felt compelled to avoid them right now.

Harry paced and tried to think straight. What WAS he doing? Where was he going to go now? He had his wand and some money. It would be hours before anyone realized he'd left St. Mungo's. He wanted to end this fight with Voldemort once and for all, but how?

The door opened and Harry quickly slipped into an empty stall. Ron's voice was shrill and echoed in the deserted bathroom. "It's been MONTHS! It's not bloody fair."

Hermione's voice quavered, "Ron, I want to go see him too, but we can't. Look what happened to Fred and George."

"Dumbledore promised that their noses would grow back." Ron growled. "Hermione, just do the illusions. I'm rubbish at them. We'll only go for a few minutes."

"Ron, I want to. I really want to, but Dumbledore will be furious if we try," Hermione started to weep. " and I-I don't think we'll be helping Harry."

"Well, what do you suggest!?" Ron yelled bitterly. "I just want to talk to him. Just talk! And don't tell me to write another letter because we both know he's not getting them. Hedwig is ripping her feathers out over it."

"I hate this too, Ron, but I don't know what to do about it. I have all this knowledge and everyone says how clever I am, but I honestly have no idea what to do." Hermione began to sob deeply and Harry heard Ron comforting her. It took all his effort not to reveal himself.

Suddenly, a deep, rumbling gurgle erupted from one of the other toilets and Moaning Myrtle flew out in a spray of water. She hovered over Ron and Hermione angrily, "What are YOU crying about!? Oh, hullo Ron, Hermione. What's going on? Are you completely miserable? Please say yes."

"It's nothing, "Ron lied. "We just had a fight and now we're - um, making up."

"Oooooooh," breathed Myrtle. "How romantic! Can I watch?"

Hermione hiccoughed, "We were just leaving, actually."

Myrtle, predictably, moaned as they escaped out the door. Harry stepped out of the cubicle and Myrtle turned to him in surprise. "Harry, what are you doing here?"

Harry ran to the dirty mirror and was relieved to see he still looked like Lockhart. "How did you know it was me?" Harry asked.

"Illusions don't work on ghosts," Myrtle explained, and then added with a sudden shy smile. "So are you back? I heard you were ill or something."

Harry considered. He turned to Myrtle and said, "I'm going to find You Know Who and fight him to the death."

"Oh!" Myrtle beamed happily and hovered close to him. "If you perish during your duel, I'd still like to share my toilet with you, Harry."

Harry suppressed a smile. There were, he supposed, worse fates that that. "Thanks Myrtle. I'd like that." He leaned over and 'kissed' her silvery cheek. It was like kissing ice.

Myrtle turned a bright pink all over. She fled back into her toilet with a lingering, giggling gurgle.

Harry peered out the door and scanned the hall for Peeves. The poltergeist was not lurking nearby as far as Harry could tell. He was grateful Myrtle had given him the heads-up. If Peeves could see right through him, the poltergeist would not hesitate to announce to the whole school he was there.

Harry was able to leave the grounds without notice. As he walked down the darkening road to Hogsmead, Harry began to whistle. He felt rather pleased with himself. He was finally getting the hang of talking to girls.

Harry chose a dark corner in Honeyduke's to consider his next move. Madame Rosmerta spotted him and brought him a large brandy. "For what you did for the Longbottoms, my dear Mr Lockhart!" she said and gave him a firm handshake. Harry managed to blow a kiss to the inn and said "Thank you, my dear lady," This performance was accompanied by a broad smile as he sniffed at the brandy like he'd seen Uncle Vernon do on occasion. Harry sipped the liquor cautiously and winced. The amber liquid burned his tongue and seemed to set his nostrils on fire. However, after a few minutes, Harry found it soothed his rattled nerves a bit. He drank a bit more of it and tried to think.

He needed to lure Voldemort to him, but how and where? He thought of the Forbidden Forest, but the Centaurs were too unpredictable and Voldemort probably knew the forest better than he did. Better to be away from Hogwart's altogether. Harry racked his brains for a suitable location when he suddenly smelled flowers. A cloaked shape settled in beside him.

"You are extraordinary, Harry." Hecatean said in a low voice. "I am impressed."

"Hecatean." Harry nodded smoothly. He heart began to beat faster as he strained to see past her veil. His scar ached. A series of strange thoughts filled his mind. _He hated her. He wanted her. She had betrayed him. This was a trap._

"Harry, if you want to kill Riddle, I can help. I have just as much reason as you do to want him dead."

"He killed my parents," Harry hissed at her nastily. "Beat that."

"He cursed my infant son to a slow, excruciating death," she replied coolly. "Checkmate, Harry Potter."

Harry was silent. He recalled the first class he'd ever had with Hecatean. She has said as much to Draco. Voldemort killed the one you loved most. A friend. A lover. _A son_.

"Who was the father?" Harry asked, although he felt he already knew.

"Severus." Hecatean answered as she took the brandy from Harry. She pulled up the veil and downed it in a quick succession of gulps. "I know a place we can go to meet You Know Who. I can draw Riddle out for you."

"I don't trust you," said Harry.

Hecatean laughed softly. "Good. I don't trust you either, Harry." She pushed the empty brandy glass away. "Riddle's controlling you. You are aware of that?"

Harry realized he did know that. He was strangely unbothered by the knowledge. Hecatean Malfoy removed her veil. She was so beautiful, Harry thought.  She stared deep into his eyes and whispered sweetly, "Meet us in the Draconian Caverns, Tom. I'll bring Harry. You bring my brother. We'll talk about old times, mmm?"

His scar stopped aching and Harry suddenly felt Voldemort's presence evaporate from his mind. He grasped in acute relief. Hecatean suddenly grasped his arm and pulled him out of Honeyduke's.

She thrust Harry up against a wall in a nearby alleyway and stared into his eyes again.

"Is he still there, Harry?" she asked anxiously.

"No," admitted Harry. "He's gone. He was happy. He wants to confront us. He hates us both."

"Are you still game to end this?" Hecatean removed her veil entirely. "Want to hear my plan?"

Harry took a breath and nodded. "Yes."

Suddenly he head began to swim. He closed his eyes and it went dark for a moment.

"Too much brandy, eh Harry? You're all right. You're just not used to hard liquor. Still game to end this? Want to hear my plan?"

"Yes." Harry needed to trust someone. He hoped she would prove worthy.

She took out two coins. One was wrapped loosely in a red material. One wrapped in blue. She thrust the red one in his pocket. "Portkey to St. Mungo's. One or both of us is going to probably need it, since you can't Apparate yet. If it goes badly, use it and find Dumbledore."

Harry nodded as she continued.

"The other takes us to the Caverns. They lie under Malfoy Manor, ancient and hidden. The Ministry doesn't know about them. Even I didn't know about it until recently. Oh, you better remove that illusion of Lockhart off."

Harry undid the spell and revealed his true form. He stood in the alley wearing his sneakers, a dirty gray shirt and long, light sweat pants with a St. Mungo's crest on them. For some reason, Hecatean's veil was now tied in a slipknot around his right wrist. He left it there. _It wasn't time yet. _Harry stashed his wand in his sock.

"Keep bringing up that Riddle's a half-blood, Harry. I'll concentrate on Lucius and Bellatrix, if she's there. Get as close to him as you can. You may only get one chance."

"Are you certain-?" Harry's scar was starting to bother him again.

"NO! I'm not!" Hecatean spat, and then calmed herself. "Good luck, Harry. Show Riddle no mercy. He certainly won't show you any."

Hecatean grasped him around the waist. He felt a great pull as the Portkey took effect. Before he could blink they were standing in a vast dim, dank cave. The Draconian Caverns.

They were first to arrive. Hecatean waved her wand and was seemed like a hundred torches flared to life. Warm light filled the cold, musty tomb. Harry looked up. It was shaped like a beehive. Huge pillars of carved snakes surrounded them; their long tails met at a point hundreds of feet above them. Live serpents of many different species slithered around their feet.

"Best tell the snakes to leave, Harry," Hecatean said uncomfortably. "All hell is about to break loose."

Harry looked down at the glistening vipers, rattlers and pythons at his feet. "Better to leave," Harry hissed at them. "I battle Voldemort here tonight. I don't want any of you to be hurt."

"Prophecy! Prophecy!" some of the snakes cried out as they scattered in all directions. One very large King Cobra reared up before Harry, hissed and then bowed. "Good fortune to you, brother. Fight well." The cobra turned and slithered into the shadows. Their tiny eyes gleamed from the dark corners. The snakes were staying to watch.

"What was that about?" Hecatean asked.

"He wished me good luck." Harry felt strangely calm. He wanted it to be over.

Footsteps approached and Lucius Malfoy, wand in hand, stepped out of the shadows. Harry sneered at him in distaste and looked around for Voldemort, but he saw no one else.

"Evening, Lucius," Hecatean said curtly. "Where's Riddle?"

Lucius glanced at Harry, noting that he had no wand in his hand. "Brought the little son of the mudblood, I see. Forgotten his wand, has he? My master has his pathetic mind in the palm of his hand, Hecatean. You have no allies here."

Hecatean agreed amiably. "This is my fight, brother. So, where's your mudblood? Riddle's his name, isn't it?"

"Traitorous cow!" Malfoy raised his wand but did not use it.

Hecatean tried reason. "Lucius, surely you now understand just what sort of maniac you're dealing with. He'll destroy you and your family in the end. All you have to do is fail him once and –"

"I shall not fail!" Lucius cried.

"Riddle's insane! Think of your son!" Hecatean had slowly been raising her wand.

Harry's wand was still hidden in his sock. His hand itched to grab it. His scar was throbbing. He heard a faint sound and went to reach for his wand, but then Harry realized he could not move.

Voldemort strode out of the darkness, tall pale, and painfully thin, like a corpse that could walk. His horrible snake-like eyes were full of madness. "Hecatean, my old, old love. You haven't changed a bit."

Hecatean glared at him. "You're uglier than ever, Riddle, and just as mad, if not more so."

"You will feel differently about me soon enough," Voldemort said unfazed, "Lucius, once I remove her disfigurement you will suppress her memories. _All of them_."

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius raised his wand higher.

Harry tried to break the hold Voldemort had on his mind to reach for his wand but his scar seared in agony. It was like hot knives between his eyes.

The stone floor suddenly melted and surged up, binding his legs. He pounded at the stone but it was pointless. Now the wand in his sock was buried with his legs in cold stone.

Voldemort laughed. "No, little Potter. No wand for you."

Harry struggled to break free, but it was hopeless. Fear sweat began to pour off him. He wiped at his face with the veil tied to his wrist and stared at it. A memory niggled at him.

Hecatean raised her wand at her brother and cried "_Crucio!"_ The spell grazed Lucius, who screamed in pain. Voldemort paused by Harry to watch. Lucius managed to counter attack as Bellatrix Lestrange appeared suddenly from the shadows. Harry cried a warning to Hecatean but it came too late. The spell blasted Hecatean from behind. She froze, and then she crumpled slowly to the floor.

Voldemort turned and spat contemptuously in Harry's face. "All too easy, Little Potter. At long last, I will finally watch you die. Tonight, our struggle shall finally end. I have lost my Death Eaters, but their sons and daughters shall make up the deficit. I have my giants and many other allies. You have lost, Potter." Voldemort leaned over him. His foul breath made Harry choke as he hissed. "My children will have your bones for playthings."

Bellatrix crowed in happiness at her master's words. She leered at the still form of Hecatean. "Let me kill the traitorous bitch, master! She will never love you as I do."

Voldemort turned and hissed at the mad woman who worshiped him. "No! Touch her not! I shall have my pureblood bride at last, Bellatrix. She shall give _me_ pureblood sons. She will forget about her son and her filthy traitor husband. Lucius, perform the memory charm after I restore her beauty. Then I shall deal with Potter."

Bellatrix looked down at Hecatean in dismay. She grasped her wand tightly and seemed to struggle to speak.

Harry was helpless to do anything. His legs were going numb with cold. He had to do something important. He tried to remember what the important thing was. What he was supposed to do?!

Voldemort chanted a spell, and Hecatean's potion-induced illusion of loveliness faded. The underlying face was hideous. It was as if her features had been made of wax, been half melted and then twisted in a rage. Voldemort performed another spell. The hideous visage faded and her true features appeared. Hecatean was still lovely, but now looked old and faded after years of fear and hard living.

Harry suddenly remembered what he had to do. He seethed at Voldemort, "She didn't want to marry you, did she, Tom? She was haughty and proud and wanted a pure blood match, didn't she? She wanted Snape, because he was PURE and not you because you're a MUDBLOOD."

"SHUT UP!" Bellatrix screamed at Harry. "Stinking half-blood's whelp! My Lord's blood is PURE now. His old body is gone. All that remains is pure in blood and in spirit. PURE!"

Harry looked at Voldemort and found he was able to sense his thoughts. Harry turned and sneered at her. "He despises you. Bella. He loathes you because you are mad from the Dementors and you're uncontrollable."

"_Accio Wand_!" Bellatrix's wand flew into Voldemort's waiting hand. Voldemort smiled coldly as Bellatrix Lestrange heard the truth in Harry's words.

"My Lord," she whimpered and fell to her knees,  "I never denied you. I spent 12 years in Azkaban for you. I was, and am, your most devoted servant."

"I am grateful, Bellatrix," Voldemort said tonelessly, "but Potter is right. You are quite mad, and cannot be relied upon anymore."

Voldemort raised his hand and made a small gesture. Snakes surged from the shadows and began to bite Bellatrix Lestrange's shaking legs. She toppled as the writhing mass of serpents swarmed over her as she screamed, "Maaaaaaaaaster!!!"

Harry turned away. The sour taste of brandy filled his mouth and he vomited in revulsion. His body shuddered even harder when the screams stopped. Harry reluctantly looked back and saw Bellatrix was dead, but her body was still twitching. A sharp echo suddenly rang through the caverns.

Lucius raised his wand. "Master, someone comes."

Voldemort loomed over Harry. He was so close. Suddenly Harry knew what it was he must do, but Voldemort wasn't close enough!

Voldemort gestured to the snakes but they did not come. The snakes retreated into the shadows and said, "We do not kill the little brother. Not usss. No. Not usss."

Voldemort growled at them in anger, "I do not need you." He leaned towards Harry and bared his fangs. Sickly, yellow venom oozed from his horrible, lipless mouth. Harry pulled at the slipknot on his wrist with his teeth and fell back as Voldemort lunged for his throat. Harry grasped Voldemort's neck with one hand and plastered the Veil over his gleaming, red eyes with the other.

Then all hell broke loose.

Harry's scar throbbed in acute agony as Voldemort began to scream in terror. He fell back, away from Harry as he frantically tried to pull the clinging Veil from his face. The caverns shook violently. One of the snake pillars cracked sharply. The stone that held Harry's legs pulled away and Harry fell to the floor. Voldemort slipped in Harry's vomit and landed heavily beside him.

"Master!!" cried Lucius, trying to keep his balance as he ran to Voldemort, "What has he done to you!"

Voldemort could not answer. He was clawing both at the air and at the veil as if trying to keep people away from him. He was slavering and whimpering in fear. "_Leave me. Leave me. Father! NO! Get away_!!"

Harry rolled away and finally was able to get to his wand. Lucius saw Harry raise it towards him and quickly grabbed the writhing Voldemort and disapparated.

The caverns stopped shaking. With difficulty, Harry ran to Hecatean and dragged her limp form into the shadows. He took out the Portkey but waited to see who was approaching.

Draco, wearing a yellow robe and an expression of triumph, ran into the center of the caverns. He barely spared a glance to the contorted, dead body of Bellatrix Lestrange. He called out in an excited voice. "Father! Father, I've done it! I made certain of it. He's dead!"

Hecatean stirred and coughed violently. Harry felt blood splatter his face. He grasped the Portkey as he tightened his grip on Hecatean. He thought he heard Draco cry out, "Father! Potter is DEAD!"

Dumbledore was waiting anxiously with a team of nurses and healers. They took Hecatean from Harry's arms and rushed her down the hall. Harry's legs were still cold and numb from being imprisoned in rock. He wavered slightly in exhaustion. Too much had happened. He had to tell Dumbledore everything, but didn't know where to begin.

Dumbledore approached him slowly. He lightly brushed Harry's scar with his fingertips. "He is gone."

Harry nodded. "Yes, headmaster."

"You were able to get the Veil over his eyes?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in relief and whispered. "Well done, Harry."

Harry fell into Dumbledore's arms and moaned, "I hated you. I hated everything. But-"

"It wasn't you, Harry. It was Voldemort corrupting your heart." Dumbledore pulled away, looked into Harry's eyes and smiled. "Your heart was too strong for him."

A scream of terror echoed from down the hall. The hunchbacked nurse came running towards Dumbledore. "He's dead! Harry Potter is dead."

Harry pulled away from Dumbledore. Draco's word's echoed in his head and he whispered more to himself than the headmaster. "Lockhart!" Harry felt blood drain from his face. "Sir, when I left, I – I never thought, that is…"

The hunchbacked nurse skidded to a stop and stared open-jawed at Harry, spattered with blood, but very much alive, standing next to Hogwart's headmaster. Dumbledore took Harry's arm. "It's alright. I already know about it, Harry."

When Harry removed his illusion from Lockhart, the hunchbacked nurse screamed even louder. His old professor lay in Harry's bed, covered with a sheet. A large nasty object that resembled a horn was thrust deep into Lockhart's chest. A small, sticky puddle of blood was forming on the floor below him.

It was the second murder Harry had witnessed that night.


	7. HP and the veil of Souls 7

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls **__**

By Bardess/Bardvahalla 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (Fanfiction PG-13)

(bardessmagma.ca)

Chapter Seven

Worse Than Death

Harry felt that Lockhart, as much as he disliked him, hadn't deserved to be murdered. He stood respectfully as Dumbledore reached over and gently closed Lockhart's dead, staring eyes. Weeping nurses wrapped the body and escorted it to the St. Mungo's morgue once the Ministry of Magic's short, lumpy coroner, Mr Mortimer Rigorus confirmed the cause of death.

"Talon of an Wyvern, right through his heart. Nasty business, Headmaster."

"Indeed," sighed Dumbledore heavily. Albus Dumbledore suddenly seemed very aged to Harry. Harry knew that Dumbledore had aged a great deal since he'd met him. The headmaster of Hogwart's took a great responsibility upon himself. Harry realized that one day Dumbledore would have to pass those burdens onto other people. Harry wondered whom Dumbledore would consider up to the challenge.

Mr Rigorus scratched a long series of notes on an official looking scroll. "Any other witnesses to the attack, Headmaster?"

"It was Draco Malfoy, sir," Harry said suddenly. "I passed him in the elevator on my way out earlier. I saw the talon. He made it look like an injury. He was wearing a yellow cloak. Later, I heard him boasting to his father that he'd killed me just before I used the Portkey." The coroner made lengthy notes as Harry spoke.

Dumbledore nodded wearily at the coroner. "There is another witness as well, but you already are aware of him. I'll sign the statements, as Harry is under age and the other witness physically cannot."

Rita Skeeter suddenly rushed into the room, her quill at the ready. "Is it true, Dumbledore?! Was Harry Potter murd- oh." She pressed her lips together as Harry stood up and glared at her. Rita looked rather annoyed to see Harry was still breathing.

"Hullo, Ms. Skeeter." Dumbledore signed off on the statement for Mortius, who then scurried away like a large rat. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Harry is very much alive, thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart."

Her eyes glistened greedily. "Perfect! Where's Lockhart? I want to get an exclusive photo of him and Harry together - and don't look at me like that, Potter, because you _owe_ me."

Dumbledore took Rita's arm firmly and led her out into the hall. "Let me explain what happened here tonight, Rita. Let Harry alone for a while. He's had a very eventful day."

As Harry waited, he cleaned Hecatean's blood off his face, and then changed into fresh clothes. He listlessly packed his few belongings, then sat and stared at the photo of his friends for a long time. He would finally get to see them again. He decided not to tell Ron and Hermione about running into them in the bathroom. Some things were just better left alone.

Dumbledore did not return after half an hour. Harry finally went out into the hall to look for him, but his headmaster was nowhere to be found. Nurses scurried about, running back and forth to a room down the hall. Harry tried to ask someone about Hecatean Malfoy but they were all too busy to talk.

He poked his head into a waiting room, hoping to find Dumbledore but found Professor Snape instead. Snape glanced up, hoping for news, but upon seeing Harry he slumped back down in disappointment. "Potter,' he acknowledged listlessly.

"Sir." Harry entered the room and sat down next to Snape.

They did not speak for a long time. Finally Professor Snape whispered hoarsely, "Tell me what happened."

Harry shifted uneasily and began to choose his words carefully. "Professor Cat found me at Honeyduke's. I don't know how she knew I was there. She looked into my eyes and spoke through me to Vo- I mean, You Know Who. She told him to meet us in the Draconian caverns. She wanted him to bring her brother, Lucius."

Snape sat up a bit straighter. "And then?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I felt him leave my mind entirely. Once that happened she told me what to do, then placed a short-term memory charm on me so Riddle wouldn't know what we really planned. She tied a tattered black veil to my wrist. She fought off Lucius and Bellatrix until I could get close enough to him to put the Veil over his face."

Snape's eyes widened in hope. "You were able to get the Veil over Voldemort's eyes?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry wondered why that was important. "Just before that, Bellatrix Lestrange came at Professor Cat from behind. I'm not certain what spell was used but it knocked her out cold." Harry skipped the bit about Bellatrix's death, and Voldemort's revolting plan for Hecatean. "Then I put the veil over Vol-" Harry winced. He wanted to hit himself for nearly saying the name yet again.

"Go ahead and say it," Snape said wearily. "If Voldemort has that veil on his face he'll be too busy with that to be listening."

Harry swallowed. "Voldemort was screaming. Lucius Malfoy came to help him and they disapparated. I grabbed Professor Cat and took out the Portkey she gave me. We were hidden in the shadows when Draco suddenly showed up."

"Draco?"

Harry stared at the floor. "He was calling out for his father. He said I was dead. That he'd made certain of it. Then I used the Portkey and we ended up here. Dumbledore was waiting for us."

"Was he?" Snape's voice suddenly became very hard.

Harry swallowed, "That's all really."

Snape sat up fully and turned to gaze at Harry. His expression was inscrutable. "You know that Professor Cat is Hecatean Malfoy, don't you, Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"Did you know Hecatean is also my wife?"

Harry nodded again. He did know, because Voldemort had known. Voldemort been furious when he had discovered the woman he'd chosen to be his pure blood bride had spurned the most powerful wizard of an age for one of his less reliable Death Eaters. Hecatean and Severus had betrayed Voldemort once they had realized they were dealing with a madman, a half-blood who would sacrifice anyone and anything to take control of the wizarding world.

Snape continued, "She never became a Death Eater, although Lucius pressured her to be. She saw Riddle for what he really was, and was brave and foolish enough to tell him so to his face."

The hunchbacked nurse came to the door. She was very pale, "Mr. Snape?" Snape bolted up. She nodded sorrowfully at him, "You had better come. She's asking for you. I-I don't think she has much time left."

Harry suddenly felt cold and numb. He placed his face in his hands. His parents, Cedric, Sirius, and now Lockhart, were dead because of him.

Now Hecatean Malfoy was going to die and that was his fault as well. Harry clenched his fists. If Professor Snape felt he had reason to hate him before, then he would certainly loathe Harry with a passion now.

"Come with me, Harry," Snape said softly.

Harry started. Never, not once, had Snape ever used his given name. He looked up and saw his potions master was very calm, almost resigned to this fate. Professor Snape cleared his throat and said, "Tell her you were successful. At least she will die knowing that she helped to buy us more time."

In a daze Harry followed him to Hecatean's room. Snape's wife was a pale yellow hue. She looked as if the slightest touch would cause her to crumble into dust. Her skin had developed fine cracks and bits of her were flaking off.

"Severus," she rasped apologetically, "Last gift from Bellatrix. Parchimentius Curse. Not much time. Did Harry manage it? Is he alive?" She spotted him peering out from behind Snape's robes and cried out in relief, "Oh, Harry!"

"He managed it, Heca," Severus said, his voice breaking. "Voldemort has the Veil over his eyes. Perhaps there is a chance now."

Her watering eyes darted to Harry. Hecatean smiled and it caused deeper cracks to develop in her ravaged face. "Oh, Severus, there _is_ hope again."

Snape knelt next to the bed and very, very gently took her flaking hand. "Yes, there is hope. You've given our world hope and much more, my dear Cat."

Harry desperately wanted to ask exactly what he had done, but it didn't seem the right time. Instead he said, "Voldemort's completely gone out of my head. Thank you for that." Harry's felt hot tears slip down his face. "I would have gone mad, but for you."

She nodded him with difficulty. "If he comes back, Harry, give him a few thumps for me, all right?"

Harry nodded back. "I promise."

"She is worthy, Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby's voice came from the doorway.

Snape and Harry spun around. The house elf was standing next to Dumbledore, and both the elf and the headmaster were looking expectantly at Harry.

Harry ran and knelt before the little house elf. He grasped Dobby by his bony shoulders and pleaded, "Yes, Dobby. She's more than worthy. Help her. Forgive her. I beg you."

Dobby's eyes widened, then he walked over to the bed. Snape moved aside, a desperate hope in his dark, watering eyes.

"You are forgiven," Dobby said to Hecatean simply.

"Thank you, Dobby," Hecatean rasped. Papery pieces of her cracked lips were falling to the floor like snowflakes as she spoke. "I humbly ask one last thing of you, if you will freely give it."

"Yes, Mistress," Dobby said firmly, as if reciting a spell. "Ask and I will give."

There was a long horrible pause as Hecatean struggled for breath. She whispered something Harry could not make out, and then Hecatean shuddered violently. Snape cried out in despair as her body collapsed in a flurry of what appeared to be tiny bits of dry paper.

Severus's hands grasped at the brittle remains on the bed as he wept in despair. Dumbledore pulled a horrified Harry out of the room and closed the door behind them.

Harry pushed away and leaned up against the wall. He felt as if he might vomit again. His legs gave way and he slumped to the ground. Harry was too numb to feel anything. He wanted to curl up on the cold floor and sink into it. He didn't want to hear Snape's bitter weeping, or the headmaster's assurances or Dobby's faint muttering.

A bright blue light suddenly poured out from under the door. Snape's voice cried out suddenly then fell completely silent. Dobby came out after a moment with a pleased smile on his face.

"She was worthy, Harry Potter."

Harry looked up just as he heard a baby start to cry. Harry scrambled to his feet and ran through the door. He could scarcely believe his eyes.

A shuddering Snape clung to his wife, Hecatean, who had a squirming, squalling infant child held tightly in her arms. Harry fell back against the door and sunk to his knees. How could such magic even be possible? With wide streaming eyes, Harry looked at Dobby in awe.

"You can bring souls back from the dead, Dobby?" Harry felt sudden elation. A surge of new hope sprang up in his heart. Dobby could restore his parents to him! Even Sirius! If he could do this for Snape, surely he could perform this magic for him. He glanced at Dumbledore. "Didn't you say no spell could ever do such a thing?"

Dobby looked to Dumbledore who shook his head at Harry. "Elves carry a very rare and powerful magic," Dumbledore answered softly, "The more powerful the evil forgiven, the more power the forgiveness creates. Dobby cannot perform such miracles by waving a wand."

Harry felt crushed. No hope for him, then. He had, just for a moment, dreamed it was possible to be reunited with his parents and with Sirius again. Still, he clung to the faint hope, that if the Longbottoms could be cured and Snape's family brought back from the dead, that perhaps one day he might find such a miracle for himself.

"Time to go, Harry." Dumbledore insisted kindly, and once more ushered Harry out of the room to give Professor Snape's family some privacy.

Harry was taken by Portkey to Dumbledore's office. He gratefully accepted a sherbet lemon to sooth his tight throat and sank into a squashy chair.

"Before I send you off to Professor McGonigall's office to collect your letters and what-not, I expect you have a few questions I can now answer without hesitation.

Harry tried to think of one, but he was felt too emotionally exhausted. Then he remembered something Snape alluded to. "What exactly did I do to Voldemort tonight? What was that piece of cloth?"

"Lord Voldemort is now seeing all the souls of those who have been directly affected by the evil he has wrought, Harry. His eyes are bound by a piece of the Veil of Souls from the Arch of Peace. They will give Voldemort no rest until he makes amends to their souls."

"What if Lucius Malfoy finds a way to remove it," Harry rubbed at his eyes wearily.

"He might." Dumbledore acknowledged as Fawkes flew into the room and onto his perch. Dumbledore looked at him closely and then smiled in relief. "Yet this is an ancient magic, Harry. Even if the Veil is removed, Voldemort will still remain haunted by the souls he has wronged. You and Hecatean have accomplished a great thing tonight. There is the possibility that Lord Voldemort will soon be vanquished, and Tom Riddle will return to us, if he is willing to make amends."

Harry sat up. "You mean, in a way, Voldemort could soon be 'dead', and in that way the prophecy fulfilled? I wouldn't have to actually kill him."

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Exactly."

Harry stood up, his heart pounding. "Then it could all be over already!"

The old wizard sadly shook his head. "It may be months before we are certain of anything. In the meantime we have much else to do. There will be a trial for the murder of Gilderoy Lockhart. The Ministry is just now arresting Draco Malfoy. Harry, you were not the only witness to the murder, but you will be required to testify."

"Of course, headmaster," Harry said. He refrained from mentioning Lockhart's attempts to remove all his memories. He did not wish to add to Dumbledore's burdens.

"Lucius will not allow his only son to go to Azkaban," Dumbledore said heavily. "He will try to save Draco. This is not completely over yet."

"Sir, if the last of Death Eaters have been executed," asked Harry in confusion, "and Bellatrix is dead and if Voldemort is useless, what more can Lucius really do?"

"He is a very powerful wizard, and, in a way, Voldemort's heir. Besides, the Death Eaters are not actually dead, though some, including myself, think that option might have been preferable. There are worse things that death," Dumbledore said regretfully as he stroked Fawkes.

"They're still alive?" Harry fell back into the chair. "But why? What could be worse? If Dementors are no longer guards at Azkaban, then how can we be certain the Death Eaters won't rejoin Voldemort in the future somehow?"

"The story about execution was a lie, Harry. The servants of Voldemort have had almost all their memories removed and destroyed. They remember very little, Harry. They are little better than very confused, angry children now. There are some things worse than death, Harry. This I feel is one of them. I would not want such a fate, would you?"

Harry blanched. To be mindless and helpless and at the mercy of one's enemy, however benign, was not how he would want to live.

"No, sir," Harry whispered, and then another question formed in his mind. "Sir, Professor Snape and Hecatean?"

Albus Dumbledore rummaged in his desk and found a photo. "Hecatean Malfoy and Severus Snape were misguided and proud because of their pure blood lineage, so when Hecatean found out about Voldemort's muggle father she rejected him. They secretly wed about 14 years ago. When Voldemort found out, his rage was, I'm told, quite terrible. He demanded the sacrifice of their pureblood son to him. Voldemort planned to take the child's flesh and blood and make it his own and in this way he would become a pureblood himself. Hecatean and Snape, understandably, took their son into hiding." Dumbledore sighed heavily, "Severus Snape came to me and offered information about Voldemort in return for the protection of the Order of the Phoenix. Unfortunately, his offer came too late. Lucius betrayed Hecatean. Voldemort disfigured her terribly. She managed to prevent Voldemort from using the child's body for his own purposes, but she could not prevent him from cursing her son to a slow, painful death. Hecatean stole the Innubus Vine in an effort to save the child, but the potion failed. The child died after terrible agonies. Hecatean went mad for a time after that."

Dumbledore yawned, checked his pocket watch, and continued the story.

"Severus came here to teach at my request. This was one of the many reasons he wanted the Dark Arts position so badly, and why I could not give it to him. His desire for revenge on Voldemort, I warrant, matched yours. However, I wanted Professor Snape to help protect you. You were, and still are, the only true weapon we have to defeat Lord Voldemort."

Harry nodded in exhaustion. "I thought Professor Snape hated me because my father and Sirius were so awful to him."

"The connection between your scar and Voldemort was always been there. We could never be certain just how much you knew that he knew. As long as _you thought _Snape loathed you, then so would Voldemort. In this way there was always the chance Severus could worm his way into his old master's service and bring us more information. Professor Snape was never your enemy, Harry. In fact, he's saved your neck too many times to count. Please remember that."

Harry's head was spinning as Dumbledore handed him the photo. It was of Snape, Hecatean and their tiny son playing on the grass. Snape was laughing as his baby son tugged a fistful of his father's hair.

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Voldemort attacked Snape's family the same night this photo was taken. After his son was cursed, Severus refused to wash his hair, because his son, Sincerus, had played with it that very day."

Harry stared at the photo of Snape's family for a long time, then handed it back. "I have only one more question, sir," he said numbly as Dumbledore put the photo away.

"Yes, Harry?"

"You said I wasn't the only witness. Who else saw Lockhart murdered?"

"I cannot tell you that just yet, Harry. The Ministry doesn't want to release names until just before the trial. Rest assured, this other witness will be considered very reliable. It's late, Harry. Off you go."

Harry left for McGonigall's office. A tiny clock on the wall showed it to be after two o'clock in the morning. After Professor McGonigall hugged him half to death, she informed Harry that he had an exam in a few days. He realized that only two weeks remained of term. He yawned and wondered what the password was for the Fat Lady was, but the Fat Lady admitted him without hesitation. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter. We've missed you so much!"

He yawned heavily and he thanked her. Somehow he made it up to his bed. The next morning he vaguely recalled dumping his things beside his trunk, then falling on his mattress.

"HARRRY!!!"

Ron's whoop of delight startled him out of a deep, uninterrupted sleep. He jumped up in alarm and hit the floor hard.

"Sorry Harry!" Ron pulled him to his feet, beaming. "What are you doing here!!? What's going on? We haven't heard a thing! Just something about a murder attempt and - Seamus! Neville! LOOK!!

His morning was complete and joyful pandemonium. At breakfast Hermione couldn't talk, she just hugged him and wept. Ginny kept making showers of blue sparks fly from her wand. Ron keep poking him with a finger, as if he could not believe Harry was really there. The entire school, with the exception of a few Slytherins, cheered his return.

The mail arrived and the _Daily Prophet's_ headline blazed the heroic death of Gilderoy Lockhart. It allowed Harry enough distraction to finally eat some breakfast that didn't taste like hospital food.

Hermione was still too emotional to read aloud, so Ron did it for her. "Only recently awarded the Platinum Pentagram of Honour for helping restore the sanity of the Longbottoms, torture victims of the notorious Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange," Ron read aloud, "Gilderoy Lockhart, once Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwart's until a terrible confrontation with You-Know-Who, (Ron snorted at this) selflessly agreed to pose as Harry Potter upon hearing that an assassination plot was in the works. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, has been posing as a patient at St. Mungo's to draw You Know Who "into the open". Harry Potter is quite safe, but despite precautions, the assassin made it pass barriers set by Albus Dumbledore himself. Gilderoy Lockhart was fatally stabbed to death in the heart with the Wyvern's talon at St. Mungo's late last night. An arrest warrant has been issued for - BLIMEY!"

Ron gaped at Harry. "They're looking for Draco Malfoy!"

All heads turned to the Sytherin table. Draco was not present. Neither were Crabbe, Goyle and several others.

"I have to testify against him." Harry whispered to Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

Harry did not say anything about Lockhart's attack on him, since it was obvious that Dumbledore preferred to have Lockhart remembered as a hero. Harry wondered about that, and then decided just to let it go. Did it really make any difference if Lockhart was remembered as a hero instead of a malicious coward?


	8. HP and the Veil of Souls 8

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (Fanfiction)**__**

By Bardess/Bardvahalla 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG-13)

Chapter Eight

Blood Ties

Harry had Potions that morning and was more than a little surprised to see Professor Snape, his hair freshly washed, stride into the dungeon. His usual jet-black robes were now a less severe shade of dark blue. The Potions professor paused by Harry and looked down his hooked nose with a scowl on his face. Harry blinked back, uncertain of what he'd done to warrant such a stern expression. Snape suddenly snarled at Harry, "One hundred points to Gryffindor, for no particular reason." Then Snape walked on, waved his wand and a new potions assignment suddenly appeared on the board.

The Slytherins whispered to each other in disbelief. Hermione dropped her quill in astonishment. Ron turned to gawp at Harry so quickly that he slipped off his seat, fell and bashed his head on the floor. It took a moment for Harry to understand that Snape was thanking him for the night before. He hid a smirk as he helped Hermione pick a rather dazed, very confused, and rapidly swelling Ron up off the floor.

Classes were cancelled that afternoon for Lockhart's memorial service. Hogwart's held a school memorial, but Harry, Dumbledore, Lupin, and the Longbottom's attended the official funeral at the Rhombus Cemetery near the coast of Salcombe.

Harry wore his school robes and a dark tie he borrowed from Hagrid. The vast majority of attendees were fans, mostly witches, all crying pathetically into lacy hankies. Tributes of flowers, poems and tiny stuffed toys had poured in from all across the wizarding world. They popped in and around the casket until it was nearly covered with them.

Harry stood with Neville as the eulogies were given. He felt like a hypocrite, helping praise Lockhart as a hero when he felt his ex-teacher was quite the opposite.

When the service was over he and Neville wandered off to explore the grounds at Rhombus, since Fudge wanted to talk to Dumbledore privately and still felt Harry might broadcast any Ministry secrets straight to You Know Who.

"Harry, look!" Neville pointed to a tombstone. "Nicholas Flammel."

Harry read the words on the stone and then looked around with new interest. "I often wondered where wizards buried their dead."

Neville wandered on and suddenly stopped. He looked back at Harry, his face somber. "You better see this, Harry."

Harry joined him and looked down at an ornate stone, engraved with lilies on the sides and crested with a white marble stag. The insciption read "_James and Lily Potter. Ad patres. Ad astra."_

Harry knelt down, reached out and traced his parent's names with his fingers. Why had no one ever told him about this place before? He felt angry, then pushed the feeling away. He should have asked Dumbledore years ago where his parents were buried. He had asked Aunt Petunia once about a gravesite when he was little, but she'd never answered him. Now he knew why. He wished he'd brought flowers when he noticed that someone else had been tending the grave. Harry wondered who it was. Tiny, red roses were planted at the base of the stone. Beside it, two lit candles were dancing in the summer breeze.

Neville stood by Harry until Dumbledore and Lupin joined them. Lupin waved his wand and conjured a huge wreath of white lilies and yellow roses. He handed the flowers to Dumbledore, who passed them to Neville. Harry stood after a moment, then took the wreath from Neville and laid them on his parent's grave. After a few more minutes, Harry wiped his eyes, turned and walked away.

At dinner a special late edition of the _Daily Prophet_ came out trumpeting the arrest of Draco Malfoy. It had taken four Aurors to subdue him. Harry noted with pleasure that Tonks had been one of them. Her grinning picture was on the front page, her hair was no less than fourteen different shades of blue, green and purple.

The atmosphere in the hall was a queer blend of frantic, last-minute studying, horror at the imprisonment of a fellow student charged with the murder of their ex-teacher, and wild gossip about Draco's eventual fate.

"Execution's too good for him," Ron said coldly. Harry realized Ron had been distracted and sullen since he returned. He attributed it to the large bump on Ron's head and Lockhart's memorial service.

"There are things worse than death, Ron," Harry said softly, but he did not elaborate. There were a lot of things he wanted to talk about but didn't feel the moment was right.

Hermione picked at her meal listlessly. "Being in Azkaban and knowing Harry's still alive is torment enough for Draco."

Ron's eyes narrowed and he said coolly. "You actually sound sorry for that little murdering rat."

Hermione shrugged. "I do feel a bit sorry for Draco. He's lost everything, hasn't he?"

"Oh, right," hissed Ron in a low voice, "Better Harry should have taken a Wyvern talon in the heart!"

"Stop it, Ron." Harry said sharply. "That's not what she meant. Besides, I find I feel sorry for Draco, too."

Ron turned and stared at Harry in complete disbelief. 'You cannot be serious. After he tried to KILL you?"

"Think about it, Ron," Harry said. "He was trapped, Ron. He's like Kreacher in a way. He's been fed Death Eater lies and Pureblood poison by his family for years. What else could he have become? It could just have easily been one of us."

"You're crazy," Ron muttered.

Harry bristled. It was the wrong thing to say to someone who had been kept isolated in St. Mungo's loony ward for months on end. "Am I? Look at Percy. He didn't admit he was wrong about everything because of pride."

Ron's face went purple in rage. He stood up and stalked off without saying a word. Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Ron, wait! He's doesn't know. RON!"

Harry watched Ron go off. In bewilderment, he turned wildly to Hermione. "What don't I know?"

"Percy." Ginny said miserably. "We were waiting for a better time to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Harry demanded.

Ginny turned away and rubbed at her eyes. "Didn't turn up for work this week, did he? Dad went to check on him and found his place ransacked. Mum and dad are frantic. You see, Harry, Percy's missing. Possibly kidnapped."

Harry took off after Ron but couldn't locate him anywhere. Then on a hunch he checked the first floor girl's bathroom and found him in a stall, kicking the moldy door from the inside.

Myrtle was hovering some distance away, watching the drama.

Harry timed his moment to just after Ron kicked the door again, then he opened it. "We'll find him. It'll be all right."

""HE'S PROBABLY ALREADY DEAD!" Ron screamed back in rage.

Harry leaned up against the stall and said firmly, "You don't know that for certain."

Ron took a deep breath and calmed himself with an effort. "I got an Owl from Fred and George just before dinner. They found the Percy's clock arm and fixed it. It went straight to 'Mortal Peril' and then fell off. They couldn't get it to stick again after that. They're afraid to say anything to Mum."

"That's still not proof Percy's dead." Harry said, although he realized it definitely wasn't a good sign. "You haven't told Ginny or Hermione that, have you?"

"No. Not yet," Ron said coldly. "Ginny's upset because she hasn't spoken to Percy since that big fight last summer. Hermione's too busy feeling sorry for that effing Malfoy - " Ron pounded the wall with his fist. "You think you know someone!" Ron angrily pulled a little box out of his pocket and flung it into the toilet. Harry watched with horror as the ring Ron had diligently saved for was flushed away.

Ron turned and glared at Harry. "You send that little rat away, Harry. Don't waste your pity on him! Draco didn't hesitate to try to kill you. Lockhart is dead, Sirius and your parents are dead, and now my brother is missing and likely dead. Don't ever forget this is a _war_. Save your pity for someone who deserves it. Like Percy, maybe." Ron stomped away.

Harry slid down onto the floor. Myrtle came over and sat beside him.

"Sometimes," Myrtle said softly, "I realize I didn't have such a big problem after all. It seems silly now, crying for fifty years over being teased about my glasses. It is silly, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "I have glasses too. It's not so bad, is it? Besides, I think you look rather pretty in yours."

Myrtle turned pink all over again and changed the subject. "What was that Ron threw into the loo?"

Harry suddenly jumped up. "The box! Can you get it back for me? Please Myrtle!"

She smiled, flew up and then dove into the toilet. With a spray of water the little box spit back out of the commode. Harry picked the soggy, velvet box off the floor, opened it and whistled in appreciation. It was ring with a sapphire the size of a small egg. Fred and George must be raking in money hand over fist, Harry thought.

"Thanks!" he said when Myrtle reappeared. He dried the box off and put it in his pocket. He would give it back to Ron when things calmed down.

She smiled shyly and hovered close to him. "Harry, thank you for what you said about my glasses."

Harry nodded at her. "I meant it, Myrtle. You're a good friend, you know."

Myrtle's lips began to tremble and she fled bawlingg into her cubical.

Bewildered, Harry wondered what on earth had he said to upset her? He decided he would never understand women, and left the bathroom quite annoyed.

Exams were now the least of Harry's problems. He knew he'd done very well on them all, especially Potions and Apparation (although he had not officially received his certification). He'd done nothing but study for months and at least part of being cooped up had paid off. What ate at him was that there was no news about Percy, and Ron still wasn't speaking to him or Hermione. On top of that, Harry had to make statements to clerks and solicitors from the Ministry regarding Draco. Every incident, every insult, and every fight they ever had on school record was to be entered as evidence in the case. At least, in this instance, Professor Snape was willing to back him up.

He often took refuge at Hagrid's. Spot was now banned from the hut and eating everything in Hagrid's garden, but the floor was still sticky.

"I feel a bit of a fool, now." Hagrid admitted one afternoon. "I wouldn't have gone on that bender if I'da known she and Snape had been married all these years. Eh, did yeh know the Snapes made me Godfather to little Sincerus! That's a great honour, that is," Hagrid sniffed, and used an old necktie as a kerchief to wipe his nose. "It's like having a son in a way. I'm going to spoil the little tyke rotten."

Harry smiled. "If anyone deserves a bit of happiness these days, it's you, Hagrid. Spoil away, just don't give him any pets."

"Yeh're off home soon, then?" Hagrid asked.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "My last summer of fun with the Dursley's, but I want to patch things up with Ron. I just don't know how."

"Still no word on his brother, Percy, is it?"

"No news." Harry picked dried slime off his shoe. "The Weasley's are going mad waiting for word. Rewards for information. Ads in the papers. They're frantic."

Hagrid grumbled. "Well, it can't be a kidnapping, can it? Days have gone by and no ransom note so far, eh? Who would take Percy Weasley and not send word if money were involved? Anyway, who would pay for 'im but his parents and they really 'aven't got any money anyway?"

Harry dropped a thread of slime. "They haven't, but Fred and George do! They're rolling in money these days."

"Hmmph," grumbled Hagrid, "Who's so hard up for money they'd want to tangle with those two miscreants."

A name came to Harry's mind almost immediately.

Ron was down by the lake, tossing _Big Burp Belcher Bubbles_ at the Giant Squid who was catching them and eating them.

"It was Lucius!" Harry ran up and said between gasps for breath, "Lucius took your brother, I'm sure of it."

Ron stared at him. "What?"

"Malfoy needs money. His accounts are still frozen and Draco's solicitor will be expensive. Lucius wouldn't send a ransom note to your parents. He'd have sent it to Fred and George. They're doing well aren't they?"

Ron looked at Harry and nodded. "They've been edgy about something lately. They want me to meet them at the shop tonight. I was going to leave early, skip the feast and all that, but I'm a prefect, and McGonigall refuses to let me go." Ron flung a last bubble. The squid deftly caught it and ate it. It finally belched deafeningly, and then burbled away.

Harry thought fast. "Ask Hermione to cast an illusion to make me look like you, then I'll cover you for tonight. Take my broom. It's faster than yours. Go help Fred and George. Deal?"

Ron looked at his Harry. "That's a great idea, Harry," then Ron frowned suddenly. "You think Hermione'll do it? I haven't been all that decent to her lately."

Harry pulled the velvet box out of his pocket. He tossed it to Ron. "I think she'll understand you've been under a bit of stress."

"The ring!" cried Ron in relief. "I've been kicking myself for days! Thanks, Harry! Let's go find her. She's in the library, I'll bet, trying to figure out what she forgot on the exams."

Running beside Ron, Harry felt good for the first time in a long time. He had his friends back.

The Leaving Feast seemed to drag on forever. Ravenclaw got the Quidditch cup and Hufflepuff the most house points. Gryffindor was in both cases a close second. Harry (pretending to be Ron) was feeding a morsel of pumpkin pastry to a nervously giggling Hermione when Mrs Weasley came stomping into the hall, grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and hauled out him into the corridor as students gaped. Mrs Weasley kicked the doors to the main hall shut and hissed at Harry, "Alright Ron, where are they?"

Harry shrugged, and wondered who 'they' were. He presumed she meant Fred and George.

"Don't play stupid with me. They closed the shop and cleaned out their accounts. I know they always tell you what's going on so SPILL IT!"

Harry opened his mouth but the sound of a clearing throat interrupted him. Molly Weasley spun around. Arthur Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron were standing there. They all wore serious expressions. Mr Weasley was holding a box so tightly his knuckles were white. Dumbledore came out of the Great Hall and gazed at them all with a somber face. "How did it go, Arthur?" Mr Weasley could only shake his head. Dumbledore looked pained. "We had all better go to my office then."

Mrs. Weasley was glaring at Harry, then glaring at the real Ron with a growing expression of fury in her eyes.

Hermione and Ginny slunk out of the hall and closed the door behind them. Hermione took one look at the Mrs Weasley's face, and deftly removed the illusion from Harry.

Mrs Weasley hissed, "I want to know what's going on. Albus, Arthur! Don't you DARE try to sugarcoat this."

There were squashy chairs everywhere in Dumbledore's office but no one sat down except Mrs Weasley. Arthur looked at Harry. "You were right, Harry. Lucius took Percy." Mr Weasley took out a parchment and handed it to Dumbledore. "We followed the initial instructions he gave us. He disapparated with the money, of course, in exchange for a large box. We did a spell to make certain it was Percy inside before we handed over the gold." Mr. Weasley broke down and was unable to continue, so Fred explained the rest.

"Inside the box was a smaller one, and this parchment. Malfoy wants to exchange Percy for Draco. He wants Harry, and only Harry, to make the exchange. He also wants more money and the Veil removed from Voldemort's face. He's giving us 7 days to meet his demands or Percy dies."

Mrs Weasley let out a whimper and began to cry. Ginny took her mother's hands and squeezed them tight. Ginny looked at her dad, swallowed and finally asked. "What's in the little box?"

With shaking hands, Arthur set the box down on Dumbledore's desk. "His demands are in Percy's hand writing. Lucius must have dictated it, then done – done this."

Mr. Weasley removed the box top and then turned away, unable to look. In the box was the severed hand of a young man. The fingers still held a bloodstained quill and a Hogwart's Headboy badge. Hermione fell into a chair and began to weep. Ginny started to get sick. Ron grabbed a waste paper basket and handed it to her. For a moment nothing could be heard but the noise of retching and sobbing.

"We will have to call the Order together and discuss our best options." Dumbledore finally said as he offered a large handkerchief to Molly.

There was a horrible stillness in the room as Mrs. Weasley stood up, walked over to the desk, and gazed into the box. She reached down and gently removed the grisly hand. As she held the detached hand in hers, she closed her eyes. Her lips tightened and her expression grew fierce. Finally she opened her eyes and replaced the severed hand in the box with great care.

"We will find your son, Molly," Dumbledore said, but Harry thought he didn't sound very convincing.

"Not alive you won't," Mrs Weasley shot him a dark look. "I don't need a ruddy clock to tell me when my son is dead." She turned to her husband. "He's gone, Arthur. He's lost to us. Oh – oh, my poor Percy!"

She carefully replaced the lid, picked the box up and clutched it to her breast. She was ghostly pale. Fred and George immediately flanked her, obviously fearing she might faint.

"Molly," Arthur was horrified, "you can't be sure about this."

"I am sure," she countered in a quavering voice. "If you don't believe me, then ask yourself if Lucius Malfoy is the sort of Wizard to keep his word. Did he give you any assurances that you Percy was still alive? Would it matter? He wants his wretched son back and he wants Harry dead at all costs. Don't you dare give into the likes of Lucius Malfoy, Arthur! Percy's gone and we can't save him, but I'll be damned if I sacrifice Harry, or anyone else, to that filthy Death Eater." She walked out of Dumbledore's office unsteadily, the box, and its dreadful contents, still held tight in her trembling hands.


	9. HP and the Veil of Souls 9

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls **__**

By Bardess/Bardvahalla 2004

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (Fan fiction PG-13)

Chapter Nine

Going Home

The Dursley's were not waiting for Harry at the station in London. Harry, unexpectedly, felt a bit put out. Things had seemed to be improving last year, but obviously nothing had really changed.

Thankfully, Harry was not alone. Lupin and Tonks gave Harry some muggle money, hailed a cab and escorted him to Little Whinging. Four Privet Drive was dark and silent when they arrived in the evening. Harry felt a fresh twinge of resentment when he saw Vernon's car was in the drive. Part of him had hoped the reason they had not come was that they'd been merely late, or had car trouble.

Lupin used his wand to open the locked door. Tonks did a sweep inside and whispered to Lupin. "Fat muggle male in living room. Dead drunk."

Vernon was never drunk, Harry thought apprehensively. They went in and sure enough Vernon was passed out on a chesterfield, one arm hidden under his bulk, a mostly empty bottle of brandy on the floor and a scrunched parchment held in the meaty fist of his free hand.

Lupin removed the parchment from Vernon's grasp and scanned it. He gave it to Tonks, who blanched after reading it. "I'll get Dumbledore," she said then disapparated with a loud CRACK!

 Harry grasped Lupin's arm. "What's going on now?" he asked frantically.

The noise awoke Vernon, who lurched up and glared at Harry. They both noticed that a brass fire iron was held stiffly in his other hand.

"YOU! BOY! THISH IS YOUR FAULT!" he roared in a slurred voice. He stood up and lunged towards Harry, who dodged out of the way. Lupin grasped the fire iron and pulled it out of Vernon Dursley's fist with a hard tug. Vernon raised his arm, and then noticed he was no longer holding anything. He frowned and fell back onto the sofa. "Ruddy wizard's ushing magic. No fair."

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said, a growing fear in his stomach, "where's Dudley and Aunt Petunia?"

Vernon's piggy eyes narrowed. "I was hoping you could tell me that!" He hiccoughed and listed to one side. "Got a note from some friend of yours." Vernon raised his hand, but the note was gone. He checked the other hand and found it empty as well. He leaned over to look for the note and fell onto the floor. Lupin went to help him up, but then reconsidered. Vernon was huge.

"I want him out." Vernon slurred at Lupin as his fat hand flopped in Harry's direction. "Tell that Dumblebee, or whoever, that I won't have him in my house anymore. I won't! Take him and good riddance to bad rubbish."

Tonks and Dumbledore suddenly apparated in the living room. Vernon screamed. Harry took a step back as his uncle staggered to his feet and yelled at Harry, "Get out! Get out and leave me and my family in peace."

Dumbledore quickly put a sleep spell on Vernon and floated him back onto the sofa. "Tonks, put a memory charm on Mr Dursley. He should think his family is off visiting his sister for a few days."

"Right-o, Headmaster." Tonks took out her wand at Vernon.

Dumbledore took Harry aside and motioned upstairs. "Pack the rest of your things, Harry. We're moving you to 12 Grimmauld Place."

"Where is my aunt?" Harry demanded.

Lupin put an arm around Harry's shoulder's. "Tell him, Albus. Please."

Dumbledore hesitated then handed over the parchment. Harry read the blood-red script in alarm.

_"To ensure that Potter complies with my demands, I have taken his mother's sister and her son. Potter is to bring Draco Malfoy, unharmed; a quantity of gold, uncharmed; and Potter is to come alone. You know how to contact me. Potter's sole blood relations will die, rather nastily, if these conditions are not met by midnight of the seventh day._

_If you submit to my terms, Weasley's brat, and Potter's pathetic family will be returned."_

_L.M."_

"He doesn't specify 'returned alive', I notice," commented Lupin sharply.

"He doesn't mention the Voldemort or the Veil of Souls either," Harry felt sick and angry.

"Well, in any case, you must get your things, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "Without your aunt, there is no protection for you here anymore."

The house of Sirius Black had been purged of all dark magic, including the awful portrait of Sirius's mother. It was clean and smelled of good home cooking. Still, an oppressive aura pervaded the house and Harry wondered if he could ever consider this his home without Sirius being present. Harry hauled his belongings to a bedroom that had been readied for him.

A large portrait on the wall was covered in black silk and he wondered in dismay if Mrs Black's horrid painting had merely been moved to his room. Tonks pulled him away from it. "Save that for later, Harry. We have to have a meeting straight away."

The Weasleys and the Snapes were present. A house elf scurried about making supper while Molly Weasley oversaw the counting of a great quantity of gold in a chest.

Harry peered at the house elf and realized it was not Kreacher, but Winky.

"Present from Dumbledore," explained George with a glint in his eyes. "Dumbledore said she was still guilt-ridden for assisting a Death Eater and asked her if she would serve the Weasley family as our house elf to pay off her debt to society. Winky jumped at the change. Not bad, eh?"

"She must be ecstatic," said Harry, pleased.

"Winky's over the moon, but Mum's not quite sure she likes it yet." Fred said, amused. "Still, the more you order Winky around the happier she is. Mum needs the help anyway. The meetings here keep getting bigger every week."

"Ron's running the shop with Hermione," George added. "in case you were wondering where they are. Dad wanted them kept busy. They - er, don't know you're here yet."

"Frees us up to handle this anyway." said Fred in a low voice. "Mum's on fire. Should it come up, don't ever get between her and Voldemort. These days, she's scares me far more than he ever did."

Harry's scar twinged at the mention of Voldemort's name. He hissed in pain and looked for Dumbledore. The headmaster came over and brushed Harry's scar lightly with his fingertips.

"He's back. He's listening," Harry admitted to Dumbledore miserably.

"Then you best go off to your room." Mrs. Weasley said in a no-nonsense voice. She offered Harry a sympathetic smile. "You might want to have a look at that portrait. We can move it if you don't like it."

Harry stumped up the stairs, angry that Voldemort had somehow thwarted the Veil in mere days. He slammed the door to his room and turned to the portrait. He ignored it and threw himself on the bed. He would be trapped here just as Sirius had been. It was like being at St. Mungo's all over again.

Harry sat up and glowered at the covered portrait. Annoyed, he went over, grasped a corner of the silk cover and tugged it off.

There was no one there. Harry threw the black silk aside in a rage and went to find his trunk. He took out parchment and ink and began to write Ron and Hermione. It took him a long time to find the words.

"_Have moved into Headquarters. V. is back. Send me no information he can use. Lucius Malfoy has taken my cousin Dudley and Aunt Petunia. I will be making the exchange for Draco soon. I hope so anyway. If it ends badly, remember me. I was always_

_Your friend,_

_Harry"_

Harry whistled to Hedwig and sent the message off. He felt numb and lonely. He would not only have to try to save Percy Weasley, but now his aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley. They were the only family he had.

Harry was curious when and where the hostage exchange would take place. He also wondered if he would live through it.

A familiar voice behind him said softly, "You look like you just lost your best friend."

Harry turned and to his astonishment he saw Sirius standing in the portrait on the wall. He was still gaunt and scruffy but smiling. Harry was speechless as Sirius continued, "I had my portrait done in the event that things went bad. Lupin told me that it went very bad. I'm sorry, Harry."

"Sirius?" Harry breathed incredulously. "It is really you?"

The portrait shook his head sadly. "It's not really me, Harry. I'm just a painting of a memory of the shadowy remains of a once proud man, but still – it's a _bit_ of me."

Harry felt his heart was ready to burst with happiness. Suddenly, his scar didn't ache anymore. He ran over and placed his trembling hand over Sirius'. Their fingertips met on the canvas but could not really touch. Harry felt tears suddenly pour down his face. "That's alright, Sirius. It will be enough. Thanks for thinking of me. I've missed you so much."

"I was supposed to be your Christmas present months ago." Sirius's portrait said sadly, then grinned sheepishly "But better late than never, right?"

Harry laughed and brushed at his watering eyes with his sleeve. "You couldn't have come at a better time, actually. I have loads to tell you and I need some advice."

The weight of loneliness fell off Harry as he poured his heart out to Sirius's portrait. It was good to have someone he loved to converse with and a great relief to not worry about Voldemort listening in. Painting or not, Sirius's portrait still had enough of his godfather's spirit that they could at least speak together.

Hours later, Mrs Weasley brought a tray of food up to Harry's room. She found Harry curled up and dozing in a fat chair pulled up near the portrait. Sirius, as Snuffles, was lying alert on the floor of the painting. Molly left the tray, dabbed at her eyes with her apron and then covered Harry up with a spare quilt.

Sirius scratched at a flea, and whined at Molly Weasley.

"Good dog," Mrs Weasley sniffed and she wiped at her nose with a lacy hankie.

Snuffles thumped his tail and watched her gravely as she leaned down and kissed Harry's scarred forehead.

Sirius' portrait transformed into his human shape. "It's good to have him home, isn't it?"

"I wish it was for longer," Molly said miserably. "They're making the exchange in two days, whether Fudge approves Draco's release or not."

Harry stirred and they stopped speaking.

Harry dreamed of Voldemort's snakelike face. Whiter than a skull with scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes that gleamed in the darkness, a nose that was flat as a snake's, a slash of a lipless mouth. Hands like pale spiders, fingers unnaturally long, reached out to grab him. Harry woke with a scream, the portrait of Sirius and Molly Weasley stared at him in concern.

Draco was bound by the Impedimentus spell, as Harry checked he had everything. A small chest of gold was tied to Harry's broom; directions to the point where he was supposed to Apparate; and an emergency Portkey for his aunt and Dudley, himself, and hopefully, Percy. Snape shook Harry's hand. Hecatean kissed him on the cheek warmly and whispered "Good luck, Harry."

"Ready to die, Potter?" Draco said scornfully.

Harry met his eyes at him and said coolly. "You're in more danger than I am, remember?"

Draco turned away and sneered at his aunt Hecatean and Snape, who stood by Harry. "Cowards and traitors the both of you! My lord and master will deal with you soon enough!" A truly horrible aspect came over Draco's face. "I hope he'll let me watch, just like he let me watch that fool Percy lose his hand." Draco looked malevolently at the twins. "Your brother screamed like a girl."

"Shut up." Fred smacked Draco hard across the face with the back of his hand and raised his other fist.

"FRED!" Mrs Weasley grasped her son's arm. "Don't defile yourself by touching that Malfoy filth! Get off." Fred and George both gave Draco nasty looks then backed off.

Hecatean lifted her nephew's face with a long finger. "Lucius may soon have to make a horrible choice, Draco. If it comes down to saving his own skin or his own son, do you think Lucius will choose you, or Voldemort? You think about that."  Hecatean caressed Draco's face lightly. "If you have to save your skin, come to me. I can help."

"I'm no traitor," Draco spat and turned his face away from his aunt's. Lupin stuffed a gag in Draco's mouth.

Harry sat on the box of gold and tried not to think too much about what he was about to do. Arthur Weasley knelt down beside him. "Use your best judgment, Harry. Don't hesitate to use the Portkey. Lucius is treacherous and powerful, but he has a cowardly streak in him. Be prepared for anything."

Dumbledore stood waiting. "I shall escort you to the Apparation point Harry. Then you go on alone, except for Fawkes, of course."

Harry and Dumbledore flew on broomsticks flanking Draco as he dangled from Fawkes' grasp. After an hour until they came to a tall, solitary tree near the jagged coast of Salcombe. The instructions clearly stated Harry was not to apparate until he reached this point. A crude snake had been carved in the bark of the tree.

Dumbledore set Draco down on the chest of gold and turned to Harry.

"You have your wand?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said, his heart thumping.

Dumbledore took him away out of earshot of Draco. "I want you to take this." The old wizard took out a thick, twisted white horn about 8 inches long. "It's a unicorn horn, Harry."

Harry took it, a bit confused. It was heavy and silky to the touch. He put it safely in a deep pocket. "What do I do with it?"

"It's for Percy Weasley. Just in case." Dumbledore leaned over, waved his wand and whispered something in his ear, but Harry couldn't quite catch what he said. Then Dumbledore disapparated and Harry called out in a panic, "I didn't hear you. Wait!"

Draco snorted in laughter despite the gag in his mouth. Harry looked at him and saw a thread of snot was dangling from Draco's nose. Harry left it there. It would be a nice touch to hand over Draco Malfoy bound, gagged, bruised and snot-nosed to his vicious father.

The snake in the tree hissed at Harry in Parseltongue.

"Draconian Cavernsssss."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. There was no time to call Dumbledore back. Fawkes flew to his shoulder. Harry grasped Draco hard by the arm, took hold of the money chest with his other hand, and apparated to the caverns.

The torches were already lit. Lucius was waiting. Petunia and Dudley were staring endlessly into space, bound to a pair of very uncomfortable chairs. They had been petrified somehow.

Fawkes squawked and flew off. Lucius took little notice of the Phoenix. His eye narrowed on Draco and the welt on his face. "Oh dear, Mr Potter. I specifically said Draco should be unharmed."

"Don't push it, Malfoy," Harry snarled, his wand in his fist as he looked around. "Where's Percy?"

"You want the rest of Weasley's brat?" Lucius smiled waspishly. "Well, that mark on Draco's face with cost you, I'm afraid. No Percy for you. Still, give me my son and the money and you shall have –" he gestured at the stony gray bodies of the Dursleys, " your family, such as they are."

Fawkes flew over and gripped the petrified bodies of Petunia and Dudley. The bird carried them over to Harry with ease. Harry released Draco from the Impedimus spell. Draco Malfoy pulled the gag out, wiped his nose with it and flung it at Harry, who only just dodged it.

"The gold, Draco." He father reminded him sharply, "Don't forget the money." Draco spun around, grasped the chest of gold and heaved it with all his might, but didn't budge. Lucius sighed. "Leave it Draco. I'd forgotten. Your wand was broken by the Ministry. Let me. _Accio gold_!" he cried. The chest, with Draco still clinging to it, flew over to him. Draco let go and fell hard. He got up angrily and rubbed his sore wrists with a grimace. Lucius stared greedily at the gold chest, not really noticing his son. "We'll buy you another wand, Draco. Then again, perhaps Harry might give you his."

Harry hissed angrily. "Where's Percy, Lucius?"

Lucius idly waved his wand at the chest. The chest sprung open as the elder Malfoy paused to make certain it was real gold was inside. Once he was sure the gold was not an illusion he glanced up at Harry. "I'm not sorry to say, we've made other arrangements for Mr Weasley. We shan't be able to return his body to you after all. As it turns out, he's come in rather handy."

Suddenly, a pair of red-slitted eyes gleamed at Harry from the shadows. Harry expected to see Voldemort's snake-like visage loom out of the darkness, but it was Percy's face that appeared.

Harry knew something was terribly wrong. Percy's severed right hand was of a shiny, silver material. Harry had seen the same sort of hand manifested on Peter Pettigrew just after Voldemort had been resurrected. Percy's left hand was flesh and held Voldemort's wand.

Harry swallowed in revulsion. He understood now. He'd thought Ron's brother was dead, but this was far worse. Voldemort now possessed Percy Weasley's mind, body and soul.


	10. HP 10 FINAL Chapter

Harry Potter and the Veil of Souls (fanfiction)**__**

By Bardess/Bardvahalla 2004 (bardessmagma.ca)

Based on the characters of J.K. Rowling (PG-13)

Chapter Ten

Orbourus

"You see, Potter." Voldemort said, his horrible, red eyes glowering at him from Percy's face, "I had to abandon my body until the veil could be removed. Luck would have it that a pure blooded wizard was handy, so I'm using him. Do give the Weasley's their son's regrets," Voldemort laughed callously.

Harry didn't recognize his own grating voice. "Let him go."

Voldemort smirked. "If I did it wouldn't make any difference. Percy Weasley's been under my influence since the Tri-wizard Tournament. Came looking for Crouch about some silly report of his. For all his ambition he's astonishingly weak minded. Obviously, Hogwart's standards in Head boys have fallen since my day."

There was a whisper of wings as Fawkes flew straight at Voldemort. The bird pecked at Voldemort's raised left hand and managed to snatch the wand from him in its claws. Phoenix song filled the echoing caverns.

"KILL THE BIRD!" screamed Voldemort. Lucius raised his wand and scrambled to stop the phoenix.

"Fawkes! Here!" Harry tossed the red-gold bird the Portkey as it flew by. Fawkes caught the Portkey in its beak, and promptly disappeared with Voldemort's wand.

Percy's face contorted with Voldemort's rage. "That was unfortunate for YOU, Mr. Potter." His scarlet eyes darkened in rage. "Get Harry's wand for me, Lucius," he commanded.

Lucius smiled. "_Accio wand_!"

Just in time, Harry gripped his wand tightly with both hands. He went flying towards Malfoy as the wand was pulled across the room. Harry heard Dumbledore's belated, whispered instructions in his ear. _"Use the horn on Percy, Harry. Free him from Voldemort if he is possessed."_

Harry let go of the wand and just managed to hit the ground running. He pulled the Unicorn horn from his pocket and threw himself at Percy. The horn took on a life of its own and before Harry realized what was going to happen, the Unicorn horn was thrust deep into Percy's chest.

Black blood spurted out and splashed hotly on Harry's face. Harry released the horn in horror as Voldemort screamed in agony. Dark blood continued to pour from the wound turning from black to red, and Harry nearly slipped in it.

The screaming voice changed to a moist gurgle as Voldemort's spirit released Percy Weasley's dying body. Freed, Percy gasped in agony and staggered away. He finally fell at Petunia's stony feet and lay in a gasping heap.

Still holding both wands, Lucius spun around seeking Voldemort's spirit. Draco remained motionless, uncertain how to react.

For a moment the only sound was that of the three of them breathing? Suddenly, an enormous red-eyed snake, Nagini, reared out of the shadows and hissed at Harry. The huge snake moved fast as lighting. Harry leapt aside but tripped over something in the shadows. It smelled very bad. It was Bellatrix's rotting body. Revolted, Harry turned and attempted to get away from it. A sharp hiss came from behind and he suddenly found himself within the coils of the enormous snake body Voldemort's spirit now possessed.

The snake opened its wide fanged mouth and hissed, "Luciussss!"

"Master!" Lucius cried out. He seemed both relieved and afraid at Voldemort's presence.

"I will need you!"

"Draco!" Lucius tossed Harry's wand to his son. Draco fumbled the catch and nearly dropped it.

Voldemort hissed, "I ssshall need pure wizard flesh. Weasssley's is ussslesss. Nagini is weak to sssustain me for long!" Voldemort squeezed hard until Harry began to feel faint.

"Master?" Lucius prompted, uncertain what Voldemort wanted.

"Draco!" Voldemort hissed impatiently, "Give him to me. I need hisss body. Then I ssshall ussse Potter'sss wand and finisssh thisss game."

"Draco will die if you possess him!" Harry managed to gasp. His lungs hurt. He could not breathe.

"Sssmall sssacrifice," hissed Voldemort coldly. "Luciusss. Command the boy to come to me."

At this, Harry violently fought for air and cried out. "Run Draco! RUN! Get to Hec - aah!" Harry swooned as Voldemort greatly increased the pressure on his ribs.

Draco, now paler than before, began to slowly back away from Voldemort. Harry was suddenly released and fell half-senseless to the floor. He heard rather than saw what happened next.

"Draco!" Voldemort slithered towards Lucius's son. "Fear not. Show me the depth of your allegiance. Give me the ussse of your pure blood flesssh."

"Father?" Draco's voice quavered in fear.

Gasping, Harry somehow found the strength to stand up. He leaned against the petrified form of his aunt Petunia as he gulped dank air into his lungs.

Lucius, pale and shaking, stood between the red-eyed snake and his son. All the usual arrogance in his tone was missing as he groveled, "My Lord, take me instead. Use me for your will. Draco is not strong enough to help you in this."

Voldemort hissed furiously. "Malfoy, I need your experience and sssskills. Thisss boy hasss not your power."

Harry caught Lucius's eye, took a deep breath and yelled. "Get free of him, Malfoy! Leave - while he's helpless!"

There was a pause, no longer than a single heartbeat, but to Harry it seemed an age. Draco was staring wide-eyed at his father. Fear was plain on his pale, pointed face. Hecatean's warnings to Draco flashed into Harry's mind. Would Lucius choose obedience to Voldemort over the very life of his only son?

Suddenly, Lucius strode over to Draco and grasped his son. "Do exactly as I command you, Draco. Do not be afraid."

Harry closed his eyes in revulsion. He heard Voldemort hiss in pleasure.

Lucius suddenly pushed Draco towards Harry. "Go with Harry, Draco! Quickly - QUICKLY!!"

Voldemort reared up and hissed in rage. He lashed his tail at Lucius who only just dodged it. Voldemort then lunged at Draco, who instinctually leapt out of the way. Draco landed in a puddle of Percy's blood, slipped and fell hard. The wand skittered out of Draco's hand and across the floor. Harry dizzily dove for it. He stumbled, still reeling from lack of air. He weakly grasped his wand, then staggered to his feet.

Draco screamed as the giant snake grasped him by the leg and began to pull. His eyes started to turn red as he whimpered in fear.

Harry steadied himself, aimed his wand at the snake and cried,

"_Crucio_!"

The snake hissed and twisted as the spell hit him just below the head. Draco's red eyes reverted back to their normal colour..

Lucius screamed at Harry. "Get Draco out of here. NOW!" Lucius raised his wand and cried _"Inversusium!" _The body of the giant snake flipped over and was held down firmly. Harry ran and grabbed Draco, who was disoriented and sobbing. He pulled him over to Percy's now still form. He let Draco go, then, with a grunt, Harry lifted Percy and set him on the stony lap of his cousin. With an effort, he grasped the petrified bodies with both arms.

Harry glanced up and saw Lucius in a deadly embrace with a writhing, hissing, furious Voldemort. Lucius stabbed at the snake's belly with his sparking wand. For a moment Harry thought Lucius Malfoy had actually killed his master. The snake went limp and toppled back onto the floor with a meaty thud. Yet as the dead snake fell he saw Lucius's eyes suddenly glow bright red and a horrible expression of murderous lust pass over Malfoy's features.

"Potter!!!" Lucius's possessed mouth shrieked in rage.

"Father!!!" Draco screamed terrified.

Lucius raised his wand and Harry shouted, "Draco, hang on to Percy!"

Terrified, Draco grasped both Percy and Harry. With an effort, Harry concentrated and with a sharp crack, they disapparated just as a red flame descended upon them.

The scent of the Mrs Weasley's cooking abruptly filled Harry's nostrils while Draco's frantic screams filled his ears. A dozen things seemed to happen at once. Tonks and Moody took hold of Draco and pulled him off Harry. Draco went limp and cried out repeatedly for his father.

With a huge sob, Arthur and Molly Weasley grasped Percy and disapparated with him, presumably to St. Mungo's.

Fred and George clasped Harry on the shoulder's shouting "Well done, Harry!" and "I knew you'd get him back!" and then they too disapparated.

Lupin and Snape placed Harry in a chair to check him for wounds. His ribs ached horribly. It still hurt to breathe. He looked round for Dumbledore. The headmaster put a sleep charm on the now raving Draco with Hecatean's aid. Silence descended upon the kitchen as a subdued Winky brought Harry a goblet.

Harry ignored the butterbeer and started blathering. "_Draconian caverns. Voldemort possessed Percy. I used the horn. You Know Who became a snake. Tried to take over Draco. Mr Malfoy wanted save him. We got away but Voldemort's got Lucius's body now. Is Percy alive?"_

"Drink. Calm yourself." Dumbledore said heavily to Harry. He held Voldemort's wand in his hand. He tucked Voldemort's wand away in his robes and met Harry's eyes. "There is nothing to be do now but wait."

Harry gazed at the statues of his aunt and Dudley in shock.

"Oh yes, well there is that." Dumbledore nodded at the petrified figures of Dudley and Petunia, and whispered to Snape. Snape's nostrils flared, and without a reply, he disapparated.

"IS Percy going to die?" Harry demanded.

This time Dumbledore did not meet Harry's eyes. "I can't say, Harry. The Unicorn's horn may purify him fully or it may not."

"Purify?" Tonks asked, curious.

"Did Voldemort say how long he'd been controlling Percy?" Hecatean asked.

Harry tried to sort out all the thoughts in his head. "Since the Tri-Wizard tournament. He'd gone to see Crouch about something."

Dumbledore sighed. "We can only hope for the best, Harry.

Moody tapped at his temple and chimed in, "But if he dies, bear in mind it will be far better for him to die with a free will, than remain the puppet of Lord Voldemort."

Tonks cleared her throat, clearly displeased with Moody's comment. Harry could only stare at Mad Eye in dismay.

Snape apparated and immediately bent over Petunia's petrified form. He administered a potion into her frozen mouth and Harry's aunt slowly began to move and regain colour. Snape did the same to Dudley and within a few minutes both of the Dursley's were blinking stiffly in confusion at all the commotion.

"What going on? What is this place?" Petunia finally said nervously, protectively pulling Dudley closer to her.

Dumbledore whispered something to Moody. Satisfied that Harry was not seriously injured, Moody picked up the unconscious Draco and handed him to Snape. "We'll put Malfoy in one of the rooms upstairs. Perhaps a memory charm when he awakes, headmaster?"

"Sleep is best for him right now, Severus." Dumbledore advised, "and perhaps later, a potion to calm him while awake. Draco will need time to think about what happened tonight. He still must go on trial, but we'll deal with that later."

A deeply worried look on her face, Hecatean accompanied Snape as he carried Draco upstairs. Moody followed them, grumbling, "I'm going to keep an eye on young Malfoy, if ye don't mind. I promised Fudge I'd have him back to Azkaban by morning."

Dumbledore turned his attention to the now whimpering Petunia. She was clinging to Dudley, who in turn was staring raptly at a bemused Tonks.

"Petunia, I have to inform you that circumstances have changed. It is no longer you who can protect Harry, but Harry who must protect you."

Mrs Dursley's lips grew pale and thin as she snapped at Dumbledore, "This is your doing! I wanted nothing to do with your kind. Now this happens! Why can't you just leave me and my family alone!"

"Like it or not, Harry _is_ your family, Petunia," Dumbledore said decisively. "My previous offer still stands. You can accept my assistance, or not. But if you choose to go it alone I can not wholly protect you."

Petunia closed her eyes. "It's too late, Dumbledore. I threw away my letter years ago. I didn't want it then and I don't now. I cannot change my spots."

Dumbledore laid a wrinkled hand gently on her bony shoulder. "You must, if you want to be able to protect your son."

Dudley tore his eyes from Tonks and asked, "What's he talking about, Mum?"

Petunia flushed, and stared at the floor ashamed. Then she sniffed deeply and raised her head. Her eyes darted from Dudley to Harry and back again.

Harry looked his aunt with new understanding. "She's a witch, Dudders. She just never went to Hogwart's to study, that's all."

Dumbledore persisted, "It's never too late to learn, Petunia. I can help you with that. You can remain here, safe with Harry. I can find you teachers."

Petunia looked earnestly at Harry, who smiled at his aunt in encouragement. Dudley resumed gazing at Tonks as if he'd never seen a girl before.

"Vernon is not going to take this well," Petunia finally said.

The funeral of Percy Weasley was held at a small cemetery at Hogwart's. Harry stared at the ground, unable to meet the eyes of any of the Weasley's. The horrific memory of foul black blood spattering him as the unicorn horn plunged into Percy's chest was a new nightmare that haunted his sleep.

He tried to put the memory aside as he glanced at the dozen's of Hogwart's students, alumni and professors who stood beside the many Ministry of Magic employees. Penelope Clearwater, Percy's ex-girlfriend, stood by George and Fred, pale and shaking.

After Dumbledore finished the eulogy, the Weasley's used their wands to levitate Percy's coffin, emblazoned with the Hogwart's crest, into the earth. Ginny, and all her brothers, tossed handfuls of white flowers into the grave. Mr and Mrs Weasley tossed in armfuls of red blossoms. Ginny bawled as she did this but Mrs Weasley's eyes were dry. Mrs Weasley stooped and picked up a handful of earth from Percy's grave. She held on to it tightly, turned and made a beeline for Harry, who blanched at her approach.

Mrs Weasley took his hand and placed the earth in it. She said in a small steady voice, "You freed Percy from a fate worse than any I could imagine, Harry. Thank you for that."

Harry's throat tightened. He could not speak. He had the presence of mind to accept the lump of dirt and squeeze her hand back, but that was all he could manage.

Harry hadn't really spoken to the Weasley's since Percy had died. It was second such funeral in as many months, Harry realized. Percy was another person he felt he had indirectly killed, and added him to the list that included his parents, Cedric, Sirius and Lockhart.

After the funeral Ron and Ginny took him aside. "Mum and Dad said to tell you that you are _not_ to feel guilty about any of it, Harry." Ron told him firmly. "Because of Voldemort- well, Percy was done for anyway. The Unicorn horn purified his blood long enough that he was able to make his peace with everyone, even Fred and George. Mum's so grateful you freed him from You Know Who. The idea of Voldemort walking around in Percy's skin was way worse than him just being- y'know - gone. Percy said to say as much to you. He told me he was sorry about the letter." Ron rubbed at his eyes.

"You were right, Harry." Ginny continued as they walked to Hagrid's hut. "There are things worse than death. It was Dad who gave the horn to Dumbledore to give to you, so don't go blaming yourself about Percy, alright?"

"Yeah," Harry said thickly, 'alright." He still could not shake the feeling he was responsible for Percy's death. How could he ever make amends for that?

Ginny stared at Harry hard. "Look, I know what it's like to be possessed by You Know Who. So do you. Given a choice, if you can't fight, death is better. Percy was grateful to be freed. So let it go, Harry."

Harry took a shuddering breath. "I'll try. That's all I can promise."

Weeks later, Harry lay in bed in his new home pondering how fast one's life could change. The Dursley's now lived under his protection in his house. Vernon mostly kept to the guest room down the hall, being subdued with repeated memory charms and the occasional brandy until he got used to the idea.

Petunia was doggedly studying with Hecatean and Lupin, courtesy of a wand and book Harry was pleased to buy for her. Dudley was set up in a room next to his parents. He often whined about the lack of television, but he found Winky's baking was plentiful enough to make up for it. Mostly he pestered Harry for information about Tonks.

Molly admitted to Dumbledore one meeting that she didn't like an elf underfoot at the Burrows. Fred and George were put out but eventually agreed Harry needed Winky's services far more than they did. "Besides,' Fred commented to Harry, "Mum needs to keep busy. If an elf does everything she's got too much time to think about … everything."

So, it was arranged that Winky was to take care of Harry, the Dursley's and Grimmauld Place on behalf of the Weasley's. Winky happily complied, spoiling Harry with constant baking and tending to the Dursley's domestic needs with a merry heart. Harry was pleased to see the elf actually happy for a change.

Harry, unlike Mrs Weasley, had far too much time to think. Even with the portrait of Sirius to talk to it was difficult to sort out his true feelings about the past year.

Voldemort had influenced his very thoughts, and Harry was very disturbed by this idea. It would be easy to blame Voldemort for his frequent loss of temper and bad judgments but Harry could not truly believe that he wasn't, to some degree at least, responsible for Lockhart's and Percy's deaths. Voldemort was still at large, and despite his success with the Veil of Souls, it had not really made any difference.

Harry often bitterly wished Tom Riddle had never been born. Then he would have his parents and Sirius alive. He would never have had his scar or fame as the Boy Who Lived. Percy, Cedric, and even Lockhart would still be alive. He'd have had a normal life, for a wizard anyway. If only he could turn back time.

He dropped massive cookie Winky had just given him and ran up to his room. "Sirius!!?"

Black stood apprehensive in the portrait. "What is it, Harry?"

"Where could I get my hands on a Time Turner?"

He explained his idea to Siruis who grew both excited and apprehensive at Harry's plan.

"It would be very tricky, Harry." Sirius warned. "A lot of wizards have made similar attempts and only made things worse."

"But-"

Sirius raised his hands. "It's all about timing. You would need to go back to the most critical moment. Before Riddle becomes Voldemort, but while he's still amendable to reason … if he ever was."

"So… you think I should try?"

Sirius looked pained. "Not haphazardly and not alone, Harry. If you use the Time Turner, then Hermione should go with you. You'll need to find out EVERYTHING you can about Riddle, and without Voldemort figuring out what you are up to."

Later, as Harry lay in bed, he thought hard about the best way to steal a Time Turner, and how to convince Tom Riddle not to become Voldemort. He wondered about memory charms. Maybe he could just make Tom forget about Voldemort.

For the first night in a long time, Harry did not suffer from nightmares.

Ron apparated to Grimmauld Place one morning with an invitation from Mrs Weasley. "Mum wants to take you clothes shopping in Diagon alley. You can't keep wearing just school robes or Dudley's old cast-offs. I need new stuff too."

Harry shrugged. He shot a look at Sirius' portrait, but Sirius was out somewhere. His godfather's portrait had been nagging him about the very same thing. "Yeah, alright. I suppose I ought to look my best at the trial. It's coming up fast." Ron smiled in relief and Harry realized that was exactly why Ron's mom thought he ought to go buy clothes.

"Whaff's haffening with ratfa- er, Draco, anyway?" Ron asked him, his mouth stuffed full of Winky's excellent baking.

"It's a mess." Harry confided sadly. "Lucius' body is still being used by Vo- er … _a certain wizard_ at last report. Mrs Malfoy blames Draco for what happened to his father and refuses to visit him in Azkaban. It's awful really. Narcissa won't help him because Draco didn't sacrifice himself to you know who."

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "What a horrible family! Makes me appreciate my own a whole lot more."

"At least Hecatean and Snape are helping him," Harry picked listlessly at a pumpkin tart. "Draco still has to stand trial for Lockhart's murder in a few days, but under the circumstances, the Ministry might be lenient since he agrees to help us. No memory destruction, anyway." Harry hesitated. "I tried to visit him, but it's hopeless. Draco still hates me with a passion."

Ron shrugged. "Well, at least he's on our side now. The situation kind of reminds me of Snape and Sirius. Hey! Maybe they'll erase Draco's memory anyway and he'll forget he hates you." Ron grinned suddenly. "That reminds me! Lockhart!"

Harry's stomach clenched. "What about him."

"That's who the other trial witness is, Harry! Lockhart saw Draco kill you - I mean, him."

Harry was completely astonished. "Lockhart's _alive_?"

"Nah. Dead as a doornail," Ron said amused, "but he hasn't changed a bit. His ghost showed up in the waiting room at St. Mungo's offering to sign autographs. He was all ready to tell the gruesome story of how he selflessly died to save you." Ron rolled his eyes. "Funny, eh? And here I thought we'd were finally rid of him."

Harry leaned back into the chair. Despite his dislike for Lockhart, he felt vaguely relieved. "Why am I not surprised?"

Hermione suddenly apparated into Harry's room with a loud CRACK! She had a foul expression of disappointment and anger on her face as she glared at Harry. "Harry? Why do you have a house elf slaving away in your kitchen?" she asked rather shrilly.

"Winky's not _mine_, Hermione, she's- er …" Harry faltered as he caught the terrified expression on Ron's face.  Ron obviously had not told Hermione that the Weasley family now possessed their very own house elf. Harry forced what he hoped looked like a smile, "Winky's being paid twice what Dobby gets."

"Ohh!" Hermione relaxed and said brightly, 'Well, that's alright then."

Ron and Harry exchanged a guilty look.

It was going to be a long summer.

_FIN_

_Author's note: _

_If you are interested in reading my other work, try _

_I have a few speculations of the identity of the 'Half Blood Prince'. _

_My thoughts on the matter are at my LJ. Please feel free to visit_

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